


Forfeit by Default

by acefusti138



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: ABO Universe, Alpha Eddie Kaspbrak, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - No Pennywise (IT), Bottom Richie, Bottom Richie Tozier, Comedian Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Eddie loves and supports his big tall omega boyfriend, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Engagement, Established Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Frottage, Healthy Relationships, Idiots in Love, Knotting, M/M, Masturbation, Mating Bites, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mechanic Eddie Kaspbrak, Mutual Pining, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Richie Tozier, Proposing at the same time, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Richie adores his tiny alpha, Richie is on SNL, SO MUCH FLUFF, Top Eddie, Top Eddie Kaspbrak
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:00:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 23,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24100969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acefusti138/pseuds/acefusti138
Summary: Most people say their love story is from a fairy tale. Or, at least, they try to put a spin on it so it sounds like one, even if it was something as simple as meeting at a coffee shop by chance.Richie really didn’t think there was any way he could relate to that, in any regard. What on Earth was so endearing to others about constant miscommunication, cringe-worthy run-ins and, good god, the pining?
Relationships: Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Bill Denbrough/Mike Hanlon/Stanley Uris, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 18
Kudos: 108





	1. One: Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Bottom Richie? Who is She? I've Never Heard of Her?](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13147824) by [acefusti138](https://archiveofourown.org/users/acefusti138/pseuds/acefusti138), [trxshmxxth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/trxshmxxth/pseuds/trxshmxxth). 



> so... quarantine really looked me dead in the eyes ad said ‘go rewrite the omega richie au’... so,,, i did,,, and made it a million times better. the prologue is just a super basic setup for the start of the story!!

Most people say their love story is from a fairy tale. Or, at least, they try to put a spin on it so it _sounds_ like one, even if it was something as simple as meeting at a coffee shop by chance.

Richie really didn’t think there was any way he could relate to that, in any regard.

Every time Eddie asks him to tell him the story, from the top, of how they had started, Richie would feel himself hate his sixteen-year-old self _that_ much more. It sucked too that Eddie always wants him to babble the stories to him when they’re laying in bed at night, cuddled together and cozy and lovey-dovey. Eddie was a little menace, always giving him that pouty, pleading look that Richie had lost many arguments to in regards to the puppy eyes supposed to be belonging to _him_. The smaller man just seemed to miss how mortifying it was, no matter what sweet way Eddie would try to have him put a spin on it. _Why_ his sadistic little husband felt the need to remind him all the time of just how fumbling and awkward their getting-together had been, he had no idea. 

What on Earth was so endearing to others about constant miscommunication, cringe-worthy run-ins and, good god, the _pining_?

“Oh, _c’mon_ , Rich. It’s not _that_ bad,” Eddie hummed, stroking a stray, messy lock of curls out from Richie’s eyes. He chuckled when Richie’s brows creased into a frown— Well, it was a bit more of a pout than a frown, actually. “If it was _really_ that bad, would I ask you to babble it to me all the time?” He asked.

“Yes,” Richie insisted, still pouting like a kicked puppy at him, “It is. Seriously, Eds, one of these days I swear I’m just gonna record a routine of it, just for you, so you can watch _that_ instead of making _me_ relieve the mortification straight from the tap every time.” He whined, making sure he gave a loud sigh for the added effect.

“Oh?”

Richie paused. “Wait— No. Eds, no, you little shit, that was a joke— No, no, stop that, stop smiling like that,” His pleas fell on deaf ears, and he groaned in horror. “God dammit, Trashmouth, _think_ before you give your evil gremlin of a husband _ideas_!” He moaned dramatically, grabbing one of the many pillows from the nest behind him to bury his face into, “If you’re gonna force me to do it, I’m getting your side of the story too. I’m serious, Eds. We’re getting the full side of the sleepover incident of ‘92 and everything.”

“Deal.”

 _“Ugh!”_ Richie whined again sharply at that, “You aren’t supposed to _agree_ with the shitty part, Eds!”

“That’s _exactly_ why I agreed to it,” Eddie snorted back, promptly plucking the pillow back up out of Richie’s hold before moving to wrap his arms back around his husband, kissing at his cheeks. “C’mon. It’ll be fun. Just for us… A little ‘how we got here’ for our ten year anniversary.”

“I’m pretty sure I gave you a _killer_ two year anniversary present, _and_ a fantastic eight year anniversary present.”

“Our children do not count as anniversary presents, Richie.”

“ _You_ weren’t the one who carried them, though. I think they’re pretty great.”

“They _are_ , but that’s not the point. The _point_ is that I love looking back on how we got to where we are now, Rich. Hell— If it’ll stop your pouting, I’ll write half of it with you and even record some of it with you.”

Richie’s eyes softened, and he gave a small sigh of defeat, though truthfully he didn’t seem all too upset about said defeat. “This really means a lot to you, huh?” He said, seeing Eddie nod and groaning softly. “What kind of big sap am I, huh? I thought you Alphas were supposed to be the ones indulging their Omegas,” He finally said dryly, chuckling when Eddie hummed and hugged him close.

“Trust me, Rich… As much as you wanna fuss and whine about it now, I think it’s gonna be worth it.”

“You better be right, Kaspbrak. You know how hard it’s gonna be to find the time to record the whole thing from scratch with how hyperactive our children are?”

“They didn’t get that from me, I’m pretty sure,” Eddie hummed, leaning down to kiss his husband sweetly on the lips, “We have a few months to work on our little project, bub. Don’t pass judgement until we’re done, huh? Just this once, will you not fuss at me the whole time?”

“Fine,” Richie sighed, a smile slowly creeping on his cheeks, “You’re turning me senile in my old age, Eds.”

Eddie was the one to scowl this time. “We’re not even forty yet, you asshole.”

“Five years is gonna creep up on us sooner than you think, Spaghetti. Soon we’re gonna be old and grey and wrinkly.”

“Shush. We just turned thirty _last year._ Thirty-five does _not_ equal forty, idiot. Now, quit fussing and let me enjoy a nice quiet night with my husband that I love very much.”

“Me? Quiet? When?” Richie laughed, but quickly went quiet again when Eddie gave him a look. “Alright. But I wanna be the little spoon tonight.”

“Mm, when are you not?” Eddie teased sweetly, gladly shifting to hug his husband close and kiss his cheek. “I love you so much, Rich… By the end of this whole thing, I promise you won’t regret it. You trust me on that?”

“I trust you with everything in my life, Eds… More than anything.”

Eddie smiled. “Glad we agree on that one, baby. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Spaghetti, my love.”

“Richie.”

A snort of amusement, and then a ‘sleepy’ “ _Mm_?” from Richie.

“Don’t push it.”


	2. Two: High School

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richie Tozier— The one kid that literally nobody expected to be an Omega.
> 
> But he is one. And it sucks in every way he dreaded it would— Overwhelming scents, overloaded senses and that desperate urge to kneel at his best friend’s side and be a good Omega for him.
> 
> Wait, what the hell was that last one?!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so,,, here’s,....,,.,. this. yeah

Richie Tozier— The one kid that literally _nobody_ expected to be an Omega. 

For starters, the poor boy was almost a good foot taller than most Omegas in the world, and _certainly_ taller than almost every other Omega, male and female alike, in Derry. Hell, not even his parents had known he would turn out to be an Omega— His mother was an Alpha, as was his father. While the love was still there all the same, unfortunately, Alpha mothers just weren’t _nearly_ as in-tune with their pregnancies as Omega mothers were. Thus, about five months after his sixteenth birthday, Richie had surprised everyone around him by presenting as an Omega. Maggie and Went had been supportive all the same— As soon as Richie came home from school, feverish and sobbing in pain with a small bag of pads in his arms to help soak up the slick, they had immediately supported him as best they could. Maggie had helped him clean up and gave him some Tylenol to help with the fever, and Went had dug into their good linen closet to find his son as many nesting materials as he could find. Once Richie had settled in his nest and hit a lull so he could rest, both of his parents gave him the final thing they could offer him in terms of support; all the space he needed. 

But it was fairly obvious that neither one of his parents had once thought to give him any hugs or reassurances that it would be okay throughout the course of his first heat. They had hugged him and soothed him when he had first come home, sure, but Richie was pretty certain that was because he had been _sobbing_ , and he rarely let his parents see him cry. In reality, they just hadn’t thought it was something he would have wanted at his age. Most Alpha parents relied on familial Omegas when it came their pups presenting, and unfortunately, there really weren’t any Omegas in Richie’s family that he felt close enough with to feel comfortable having that kind of conversation with. That was only the mental aspect of things— They _certainly_ hadn’t gotten him anything to actually help keep him from spending his whole heat miserable and in agony.

Richie knew that really, they just didn’t know any better. Hell, he wasn’t sure if he _wanted_ his parents to know that he needed a knotting dildo or he was gonna spend the next week of his heat in pure, absolute misery.

So he didn’t tell them. 

Well, he was right— His first heat ended up entailing him quite literally vomiting from the pain, screaming his throat hoarse and nearly rubbing himself raw both inside and out from barely knowing what the fuck he was doing. His parents, who still hadn’t wanted to intrude or make him uncomfortable, kept their distance from him. At first, Richie, again, understood their sentiment in theory. Really, he did— He appreciated the space and respect, it was honestly a lifesaver at first.

But the _other_ half of him was fucking _terrified._ Like, terrified to the point of tears— He had been basically alone for a week, with the occasional exception of his mother coming by his room with food and water. Sure, for some, that was perfectly fine, but for Richie? That was almost as painful as his heat was. He _hated_ being alone. He had finally emerged from his room after that first heat, dehydrated and sick as a dog, barely able to stand upright long enough to croak to Maggie that he was pretty sure his heat was over. From what he remembered, getting the words out had used up all the energy he could muster, and then he had sort of… Stumbled into the kitchen counter, thinking the blurry blob of it had been his mother. He hadn’t thought to put his glasses on, and instead took the side of the kitchen cabinets right to the gut, which had immediately sent him crumbling to the ground in pain. After that was a bunch of fuzzy memories he really couldn’t be sure were real or dreams, but they had been along the lines of his mother rushing to help him up, two pairs of strong arms leading him back to his bedroom, and then his mom coming back in with homemade soup and a cool washcloth to help him slowly break his fever.

All in all, his heat had left him out of commission for two weeks, as seeing he had ended up actually sick for a full week afterwards. Coming back to school after that had been mortifying, and he absolutely refused to miss two weeks every three months because his heat would incapacitate him that badly.

Thus, as soon as his week of sheer hell _finally_ ended and he was back to his normal self again a week after _that_ , he made the executive decision to buy a knotting toy for himself. Well, he was _going_ to— Turned out that he couldn’t buy one on his own. Some absolute horse-shit law from probably the middle ages about Omegas under eighteen not being mature enough to handle a knotting toy.

Finding _that_ fun fact out had left him yelling at himself in the mirror while his parents were still at work.

“Bitch, my body literally tried to melt me from the inside out with the raw, desperate need to have a baby fucked into me while I’m in sheer agony every three months for the next year and a half! If I need a knotting dildo, I’m gonna _get_ a fucking knotting dildo!” He then promptly sat in the shower for a good twenty minutes and strictly pretended that it was only the water from the shower dripping down his cheeks.

So, one shower-crying session later, and a bit of clever thought added in, along a few discussions to himself about how much dignity he was willing to forfeit—A pretty decent chunk, if he did say so himself—, he found a _few_ possible ways to buy himself some sex toys.

Oh, if only.

...

Richie took a deep breath as he approached the Keene’s pharmacy. “It’s fine,” He said to himself, taking a moment to try and steele his resolve. “Bev does this shit all the time— Bat your lashes, say some corny shit and flirt like this guy isn’t a fucking disgusting sack of shit that leers at kids.” As soon as he walked in the store, the corny bell above him jingled cheerfully in welcome, and he felt bile burn in his throat. This guy was one of his best friends’ regular bully’s _father_ , and here _he_ was, trying to fucking _flirt_ with the man so he could get himself a fucking _sex toy_ so he didn’t lose his mind during his heats.

“Can I help you?” Mr. Keene’s voice called from the desk— Richie felt bile crawl up his throat again and this time try to choke him on his words.

“Y-Yeah— I-I’m— Uh, I’m looking for um—,” _Think, Tozier, think! Use that motor mouth and_ think _!_ “Do you have any laxatives? My Ma sent me down here because of her IBS,” _Good job, dumbass. Now the only pharmacist in town thinks your family has a history of IBS._

Mr. Keene just raised an eyebrow, clearly not expecting the outburst. Despite that, he didn’t seem to really care enough to say anything about it, because after a moment's pause, he pointed in the direction of the aisle that Richie claimed to have been looking for. “Fourth aisle on your right. It’s on the sign, too,” He said, motioning to the sign above aisle four that said in bold letters **LAXATIVES**.

Richie, now caught in his own lie, fought back the urge to groan in frustration. Sighing, he pinched the bridge of his nose and grabbed the first random bottle of laxatives he saw, knowing damn well that as soon as he got home, he would just chuck them in the medicine cabinet and refuse to acknowledge their existence for the rest of his life. Pointedly ignoring all eye contact with the older man, once Mr. Keene had rung the bottle up, Richie quickly paid his only allowance for the week on the stupidly expensive laxatives. “Thanks,” He muttered to the old creep, shoving his meager change and receipt back in his pants pocket before he shuffled out of the store like the devil was on his heels.

By the time he was back outside and about a block away, the cool, late summer air soothing his flushed skin, he took a deep breath. He had booked it out of there so damn fast that he honestly wasn’t sure if the door had even opened enough to really ring the bell before he had slammed it back shut again.

Either way, the experience had made it fairly clear that something was wrong with his current game plan— He was too awful of a liar to try it. Which left only one option for him to choose from; He would have to change tactics. A knotting toy was out of the question right now, at least until he could get some better acting skills. Which meant he was gonna have to find something else that would suffice instead— Something with enough Alpha scent to quell his heat to a reasonable level, at minimum.

...

Two weeks back into school and Richie finally seemed to have discovered that it was the various scents of his fellow classmates, Alpha and Omega alike, that usually drove his poor brain the craziest.

It was driving him up the wall— He wasn’t sure if it was because he was so recently presented, or if it was because he was just more sensitive to scents than others, but either way, he needed a solution. It was kind of driving him insane, and he was _really_ starting to hate how his body tried to get heat curling in his gut if he so much as sat near an Alpha in class. It _really_ sucked, because he couldn’t really choose where he was assigned to sit in each cramped classroom. The classes he shared with his fellow Losers were his only saving graces. Middle school’d had them all together, and he had never been more grateful— If only high school had been that kind. 

No, he shared lunch with all of them, and then, out of the seven periods in the day, only had one or two Losers in each class with him. First bell was Home Education, shared with Bill. Second bell was Algebra with Ben, third was English with Bev and Stan. Fourth bell was Biology with Mike, fifth was World History, split down the middle for lunch— His only class without a fellow Loser, but since he had lunch with them that same time, he didn’t mind too much. Sixth bell was Financial Literacy with Stan again, and _finally_ , he had Study Hall for his final bell of the day with his beloved Eddie-Spaghetti. The final hour of the school day with Eddie was the only reason he even tolerated his schedule and got his homework done— With Eddie in his study hall, making sure he actually did his work instead of just fucking around with a broken pen or doodling, Richie didn’t mind school that much. That really kinda grinded to a halt when, just as the third week of him being back after his first heat, Eddie was gone. Usually, if he was gone, he at least _called_ one of the Losers —almost nine times out of ten Richie— that his Ma was going on some insane tangent again and he would be home ‘sick’ or in the hospital for some bullshit reason. They understood; the other Losers would help him collect any work he missed and then drop it off to him at his house to make sure Eddie never fell behind in his classes.

That wasn’t the case this time, though. Eddie was gone: no notice, no warning, no _anything_ , and of course, Richie promptly panicked. He made it to lunch, saw his tiny but mighty best friend was _still_ amiss from their group, and promptly decided to tell the other Losers of his plan to ditch class to go see what the problem was. God knows what Sonia had done this time— She was their resident batshit insane mother of the year three years in a row now, no real surprise there, and seemed on track to keep on winning that award for the rest of her days. But with that meant everyone had to keep an eye on Eddie for the signs that even his keen eyes were sometimes too blind to see.

“Rich, seriously, it’s gonna be fine. You’re freaking out over nothing,” Bev tried to reason with him over lunch, pointing her plastic fork at him, “Maybe he really _is_ sick today. He said he had a headache and was feverish yesterday.”

“If Eddie is _actually_ sick, we need to go check on him! You know how much shit his mom crams down his throat when he’s fine! She’ll probably _kill_ him if she finds out he’s _really_ sick! You know how much shit she shoves down his throat, she might end up poisoning him or something!” Richie protested back, scowling when he got one of Bev’s signature glares that warned him that he was pushing it. So, in the face of reason and proper response, he did what any logical, ADHD-riddled, impulsive trashmouth would do:

He ignored the advice from his fellow Losers and promptly skipped the remainder and the rest of his classes to go make sure that Eddie was still alive.

...

Usually, in the Losers Club, everyone knew to respect each other’s personal boundaries and needs. 

Ben and Richie were the group’s Omegas, Bill and Bev were the Alphas, Stan was a Beta, and Mike and Eddie had yet to present. Thus, when everyone would make their little piles in the Denborough’s living room or in the large, refurbished attic that Mike took over once he hit high school, no one ever minded how the Omegas instinctively made little nests for themselves, and how the Alphas all spread out. It was their nature— They did what made them comfortable and let them feel safe. Unfortunately, Richie was the only one who never had any sort of comfort item that provided a soothing scent. His parents were still on that whole ‘distance held is respect gained’ thing, and after three weeks it was starting to take a toll on Richie as it was. So the other Losers had made a small routine— Borrow a shirt, sweater or hoodie for a few days, seek comfort from it and then wash and return it in thanks. It was a system that thankfully, the Losers went above and beyond to respect— Hell, even Eddie had occasionally let Richie borrow an oversized hoodie so he could feel like he was close with all of his friends, even if Eddie didn’t yet have his fully-matured scent. On the occasions when it was his turn, Eddie would huff that he didn’t want to be the only one not helping and that Richie shouldn’t get so gushy and fawn over him for doing what their other friends did too. But during lunch and study hall, or even when they were just hanging out together, neither of them noticed, or, at least, neither of them ever _acknowledged_ that they always end up right next to each other no matter what they were doing.

Only at Eddie’s absence had Richie realized how big of a hole the tiny teen’s lack of presence left when not there next to him. Thus, biking back in the direction of their neighborhood felt far too lonely— Richie _always_ rode back from school with Eddie, even if Eddie was late in the morning or his mother drove him— He would ditch riding his bike back and would instead walk it back with the brunet at his side. Now? The sun was in his eyes, the air was sticky and hot with late-summer humidity, and he had a sour taste in his mouth from the anxiety of riding down the empty sidewalk back home, _alone_. His house was only two houses before Eddie’s, thus, he bypassed his own front porch in lieu of heading straight for the other teen’s home instead.

He saw that Sonia’s car was still in the driveway, and hissed under his breath in annoyance, screeching his bike to a halt and opting to toss it behind one of the overgrown bushes below Eddie’s window. He paused, biting his lip hesitantly before deciding, _Fuck it_ , caution to the wind it was. He tossed his backpack in the bush too, cringing when the noise was far louder than he had predicated. Still, it had to be done in order for him to scale the large maple tree that led to Eddie’s window without any sort of hindrance. “C’mon Spaghetti, you better not be dead on me,” He whispered under his breath as he began to climb, some of the bark on certain footholds he used all the time a little worn away from his constant climbing— Richie did it far too much, but it _was_ to see his best friend. He didn’t care in the slightest if it seemed like a little bit too much.

When he finally reached the window, he frowned when he saw that the certains to Eddie’s room were tightly drawn shut— That meant he was gonna have to go a little farther out on the branch and knock on the window. “Dammit, Spaghetti, gimme somethin’ to work with, here,” He huffed under his breath, reaching his palm out and knocking on the window lightly. The first time, it garnered no response, and he groaned in annoyance. “You better not be downstairs, Eds, or I’m gonna have climbed this damn thing while it’s hot as a dick between Satan’s asscheeks for _nothing_ ,” As he bitched to himself, he paused for a moment before knocking a little harder on the window.

This time, there was a ruffle of movement behind the closed curtains, and he grinned in relief, waiting expectantly for them to open up and show him his best friend. Instead, though, after a moment’s pause, Eddie’s hand peeked out between the curtains holding a piece of notebook-paper up, the words _‘Go away’_ hastily scribbled on the slightly crumpled paper. Richie frowned, knocking on the window again a little more urgently. “Eds?” He called, fairly loud so that Eddie could hear him, “Are you okay? What’s wrong?” He asked, groaning when the paper pulled back and was hidden again before popping back out, the paper clearly flipped over and this time on his math notes. This time, it only read ‘ _Sick_ ’, and Richie frowned even deeper.

“Eds, can you at least talk to me? Please, man? C’mon, dude, you’re freaking me out!” Richie called. After a moment’s pause, Eddie’s voice rang out, scratchy and muffled from the glass and curtains between them.

“Rich, I’m serious,” Eddie called, “I-I’m sick! I need you to go,” He said. Richie’s chest tightened a little at the words.

“Is it your mom? Is she hurting you again?” He asked, clutching to the branch below him and wishing he had his backpack so he could at least use the reason of needing to give the smaller boy his homework as an excuse to see him.

“No,” Eddie said back, his breathing a little strained now, “I-I’m gonna be fine in a couple days, Rich, seriously. The school knows, it’s fine,” He reassured. Richie paused— A couple _days?!_

“But your birthday is on Thursday, dude! It’s your sweet sixteen, we gotta celebrate!” The Omega tried to reason, as if logic was gonna convince whatever was making Eddie sick to stop it.

“I know when my birthday is, Richie! We can celebrate it when I feel better, alright?! It’ll be fine!” The smaller teen sounded annoyed now, and Richie huffed stubbornly.

“Can I at least _see_ you?” Richie all but whined, scowling when Eddie didn’t respond at first. “Eds! C’mon, I know you can hear me—!”

Richie was cut off in his tracks when the window pushed open the tiniest bit. The scent that he had known to be Eddie’s was completely gone, and instead a powerful hit of scent that Richie couldn’t even begin to wrap his head around. A strangled whimper tore from his throat without his permission, and he swallowed hard, clutching tighter to the tree branch he was still clinging to and trying to keep his head-spinning from making him fall out of the tree.

_Alpha._

“Yeah, dipshit, I noticed,” Eddie’s voice hissed. _Shit, did he say that out loud?_

“You’re fucking presenting,” Richie sputtered back, still trying to keep himself in check. His mind was yelling a million different things at him, and so far, from the jumbled mess of _AlphaAlphaAlphaAlpha_ and _Eddie is an Alpha_ , along with a handful of colorful ideas that his inner-Omega conjured up just for him, he managed to make out that, yeah, okay, he should _probably_ go back home. _Preferrably_ before be started slicking on the fucking tree and end up making this whole situation ten times more awkward than it already was.

“Yeah, Captain Obvious, surprisingly, I noticed _that_ , too!” Eddie was clearly getting annoyed, more likely because there was a fucking Omega perched outside his second story window just having a chat as if he didn’t know that the Alpha before him had only _just_ started his rut this morning, and that his body would gladly like to knot said Omega and pin him down and claim him. “You need to go, Rich— I’ll—I’ll call you when I hit a lull or something, okay? Just— Please.” 

He sounded strained, and even Richie’s quick wit couldn’t think of much to respond with beyond a strangled “Yeah, okay.” And just like that, the window closed. Richie climbed back down the tree, grabbed his bike and walked it home, not trusting his legs nor his brain to work together long enough to even keep him upright on said bike at the moment. He walked home in a haze, glad to see the driveway still empty as he opened the garage door and chucked his bike to the side. The short walk from the garage to his room was just as blurry, and when he finally got to his room, he didn’t even bother to kick his shoes off as he locked his door and crawled into the haphazard nest of pillows and sheets on his bed.

This was definitely _one_ way to solve that whole issue of finding an Alpha scent to get him through his heats, but at the cost of what? His best friend being the star of the previously faceless Alpha that pounded him and knotted him to completion in his dreams? Yeah, that wasn’t gonna be able to fly.

...

The first sleepover after Eddie presented was kind of a scenario sent straight from hell— Well, if you asked Richie, anyways. But only kind of, because it ended up turning out just fine in the end, but at the beginning? Eddie himself still felt that it was in his right to be as dramatic as he had been about the whole thing. He was pretty certain not even the good Lord above could have saved any of the other Losers that had been stuck in Mike’s attic that night from the fallout.

Personally, Richie was just proud that Eddie would even admit to being a drama queen on this one. Eddie insisted that it was _only_ because of how absurd it all seemed in hindsight.

Eddie had only been presented a week and a half, and they were _finally_ having his belated sweet-sixteen slumber party. If there was one thing he loved about being an Alpha, it was that Sonia really had no way to tell him in her squawking voice that _“You can’t go Eddie! You’re still recovering from your sickness!”_ Even in a town as ass-backwards as Derry was, Eddie _was_ the only Alpha in his family now. As much as he hated to think about it in such a way, his Ma was just a Beta. _She_ had to listen to _him_ now. If he wanted to go to a sleepover with his friends, she _had_ to let him. He was an adult now in the eyes of the federal law, and small-town Derry held no qualms about making sure there were _no_ exceptions to that law. He really didn’t want it to have come to what it did, but he refused to let her pull the wool over his eyes any longer if he had a glimmer of a chance to say otherwise.

But now that he was there, just with their friends, Eddie had suddenly become acutely aware of just how much their crowded high-school had hindered the scents of his friends. Truthfully, it really wasn’t all that bad— He respected Bev and Bill’s status as the pack leaders. He’d never really had a reason to try and fight his way to the top; he had always found the two’s personalities to align perfectly with that of a good pack leader, and they balanced each other's strengths and weaknesses out well, too. That, and, in all honesty, the brunet had kind of assumed he was going to end up being an Omega himself.

But speaking of Omegas brought up the elephant in the room he _really_ would rather suffocate under than bring up. Ben had been perfectly peachy from the beginning— He and Bev had been going strong for about a year now since Bill and Bev had realized that their two personalities were much too similar to ever work together on such a romantic level. Hell, Ben had been so kind as to help him proofread his English essay and mark it up like the teacher would have since Eddie had missed their peer-review class thanks to his rut.

But _Richie_. Fucking _Richie_.

The taller boy was driving him _up the fucking wall_. Not for his actions, for once, but with his fucking _scent_. Eddie had thought that being unable to get the soft, crisp scent of fall leaves, cedar smoke and fresh caramel out of his head for the past week and a half was because of his rut taking the scent of the nearest Omega and latching onto that shit for dear life. But no— It had yet to leave his mind at peace. 

Especially since Richie was just sitting around in Bill’s jacket— Bill had left it on the ground and it had been immediately snatched by the Omega without hesitation. They were all just sitting around, enjoying a friendly game of Uno— Well, friendly was about as far from the truth as could be— It _was_ Uno after all. Bev had already nearly tackled Bill after he had wickedly given her a draw four. Stan had colorfully cursed Ben out after Ben not-so-innocently switched the card color from blue to yellow, and Mike was _still_ giving Bill the coldest look Eddie had ever seen after his draw four was reversed by a good five minutes after it had happened.

But _Richie_. Richie was just sitting there on a pillow, cackling and replaying each move like a sports announcer at the cost of being the victim of most of the drawing cards. He was still drowning in Bill’s jacket since he hadn’t put it on properly; Eddie felt a vein throb in his temple.

“Oi, Eds, you listenin’?”

Eddie looked up, realizing everyone was staring at him. Oh, it was his turn. “Oh. Right,” He said, hearing Bill snicker and scowling. “What the fuck’s so funny, asswipe? Laughing at me for thinking up a strategy? Y’know what, just for that— I’m avenging Bev and Mike. Draw four— Bill.” He put the card down with far more force than he’d needed, and simply huffed at the yell of protest Stan gave as his neat pile of discarded cards was partially knocked over.

Bill, that smug prick, just sighed and shook his head, putting down _another_ godforsaken reverse uno card. “No,” He said, snickering, “Y-Yuh-You.” Eddie’s eyebrow twitched, and he heard the shuffling of Richie raising his hand to cover his mouth, clearly holding back his laughter. It would have been fine— But Richie was wearing Bill’s fucking jacket. Why the fuck was Richie even wearing Bill’s jacket, anyways?! It was _his_ week to share clothes with Richie! “O-Oi, Eds, p-puh-pick four,” Bill insisted, pushing the draw pile towards Eddie. His thigh brushed against Richie’s as he moved, and Eddie suddenly understood what every stereotypical Alpha from cheesy teen heartthrob movies meant when they said that they saw red.

“You really wanna start that shit with me, Bill?! Really?! How many fucking reverse Uno’s do you even have, asshole?! You’re probably fucking cheating anyways!” As soon as the torrent of angry words started, they just wouldn’t stop. “It’s not even your fucking week to share your jacket! We have a fucking schedule— Richie was gonna get my stuff for my birthday week! We’ve had this shit planned since he presented! Can you not even follow a simple fucking schedule?!” He stood up, throwing his cards to the ground and raking his hands through his hair. At this point, his outburst had everyone else standing up too, Bev instinctively holding him back when Bill stood.

“Hey— _Hey!_ ” Bev grabbed his shoulders, gripping them firmly and scowling when Eddie bared his teeth. “Calm the fuck down! Both of you!” Bill had gotten pretty offended at being called a cheater, it seemed. “What the fuck is this about? It’s a _game_ , Eddie, chill out.” Even as Bev spoke, Eddie was still glaring daggers at Bill, breathing hard and looking like he was about to burst with how angry he seemed.

“It’s my fucking week on the schedule! I have all my shit in my bag for Rich, why the fuck did Bill give him his jacket?! He knows we have a fucking schedule, Bev! It’s supposed to be even so it’s fair!” Eddie snapped, chest heaving at this point and hands balled into fists at his side.

Richie blinked— He really hadn’t even thought about their schedule. He had just seen a jacket and grabbed it. “Jesus, Eds, relax. I was cold, I just grabbed it off the ground. I didn’t realize it was Bill’s,” He tried to reassure, raising his hands defensively.

“It fucking smells like him from a mile away!” Eddie all but roared— Richie scowled right back at him in response.

“Dude, I know you just presented last week, but seriously, chill the fuck out! It’s _literally_ just a fucking jacket! I’ll take it off if it’s making you so damn mad!” To prove his point, Richie tugged off the offending jacket, tossing it back in Bill’s direction. Eddie immediately glowered darkly at the offending piece of clothing, seemingly trying to light it on fire with his gaze alone. He was still seething with anger and looking about ready to pop a vein, but he paused for a moment in bewilderment when a steady hand clapped down onto his shoulder. 

Mike sighed, pushing Bev to the side and grabbing both Eddie’s shoulders, his lack of fully-presented scent soothing Eddie subconsciously just enough to stop foaming at the mouth with anger. “Alright. Ten minute break. Everyone. Eddie, come take a walk with me,” He said. Eddie opened his mouth to protest, and Mike shook his head immediately. “Nope. Come take a walk with me. It’s a little hot in here, I need some fresh air.” Knowing better than to try and pick a fight with Mike, Eddie deflated, still scowling daggers at Bill as he grabbed his shoes. It was still deathly quiet, and finally Mike hummed. “Okay. We’ll be back in ten minutes, tops. Mean time, set your sleeping bags up. Bill, maybe not too close to Richie. Yeah?” He hummed cheerfully, Bill just looking bewildered and annoyed at the other teen’s maturity in the situation— Mike was an unofficial pack co-leader for a reason.

As they left, Eddie heard Bev groan a _‘What the fuck,’_ and couldn’t help but mentally share the sentiment.

Seriously, what the fuck?

…

After his little outburst, the walk with Mike had been a way to clear his head. Mike had basically insisted he explain what the fuck had just happened, and Eddie had just sort of word-vomitted that Bill had been way too close to Richie, that Bill had no right scenting Richie like that when Richie wasn’t his Omega. When Mike reminded him that he wasn’t Richie’s Alpha, Eddie had nearly growled at him, but Mike had that shut right down.

Thus, when they got back to the farm house, Eddie slunked inside and mumbled a reluctant apology to everyone. He refused to meet Bill’s eyes when he apologized to him, but it was a good of a start as any. The rest of the night was spent watching movies and gorging on popcorn, pizza and soda— Games had been ruled right out for the rest of the night, obviously. Richie had decided to forgo wearing _anyone’s_ clothes to avoid another incident, and by the end of the night, with everyone half asleep and struggling to finish _Gremlins_ , Eddie felt like shit. He had ruined his own belated birthday sleepover, and for _what_? Richie, wearing one of Bill’s admittedly ugly denim jackets? When everyone else finally called it in for the night and went to their respective sleeping bags, Eddie just curled on himself awkwardly, having chosen a far corner in shame and not wanting to ruin the night further.

He wasn’t planning on sleeping as it was, his mind far too awake with trying to figure out what the hell was happening and why it thought it appropriate to respond the way it did earlier. Pretty deep in his thoughts, he didn’t notice all the shifting and rusting from Richie’s side of the room, nor did he hear the frustrated cry the older teen gave. He _did,_ however, feel an icy cold foot nudging up his shirt and onto his backside— It nearly scared the shit out of him. “ _Gah—!_ Jesus, _fuck_ , Rich! How about a little warning next time?!” He hissed, sitting up and frowning when he saw Richie just standing there, his thin blanket awkwardly wrapped around his shoulders.

“My blanket’s too thin,” Richie mumbled, “You mind sharin’?”

Eddie paused, looking at his oversized sleeping bag, meant to survive a nuclear fallout or at the very least something similar, before he nodded. “Yeah,” He mumbled, scooching over and opening up the free side of his sleeping bag, “This thing is like a fucking sauna.” He admitted. He watched as Richie crawled in and immediately seemed to relax, sighing softly and trying to relax himself. “Better?”

“Better,” Richie nodded, chewing on his bottom lip and clearly mulling over something. Eddie was in a similar state, and seeing as Richie had worked up the courage to come over to his sleeping bag first, he supposed it would only be fair to take the first step here.

“I’m sorry about earlier,” He whispered, “I really don’t know why I was freaking out so much. I was just… Being an Alpha seriously has fucked over like, any and all of my rational thoughts. I feel like my brain got replaced with like, mashed potatoes and jello, or some shit.” Richie snorted in amusement, and he scowled. “I’m serious, dick! You know how much it fucking sucks to have your thoughts clogged by stupid Alpha hormones?! It fucking sucks!” He huffed.

“No, I haven’t. I’ve only got Omega brain telling me to carry babies and take knots twenty-four seven. You wanna trade?” Richie grinned, laughing when Eddie shushed him with a _‘Beep, Beep, Richie.’_

Both went quiet for a few minutes after that, Richie visibly related now and the tension in Eddie’s own body slowly melting out of him like wax under a flame. “Don’t wear any of Bill’s stupid jackets again though,” Eddie finally mhmbled, “We let him get away with his stupid jorts and the power went to his head. None of us are gonna let you fall down that hole, too.” He huffed.

Richie snorted loudly at that, going quiet when what sounded like Stan made a sharp noise in warning for them to shut up. “What, Eds? Ya don’t think I could pull off a floral-print denim jacket? I bet I could, or maybe I could just layer them on top of each other.” He had to snicker into his hand, and Eddie had to tell his brain very firmly that Richie’s goofy grin required a scowl in response, not a smile back that was fighting valiantly to dimple his cheeks.

“You’d look like a hot mess if you tried,” Eddie finally said, his voice still traitorously tinged with equal parts fondness and amusement.

“Yeah, but that’s what makes it so perfect, Eds! I gotta make sure people know the Trashmouth brand from a mile away,” Richie hummed, fighting back a yawn at that. “Gotta keep everyone on their toes,” He added, letting his head plop down properly on Eddie’s pillow again and ignoring him as the younger teen tried to scooch him over so he could lay his head down too.

Eddie pointedly didn’t respond, instead just huffing for him to shut up and go to sleep before he changed his mind about letting Richie borrow his sleeping bag.

They still both woke up tangled together in the morning, and if they didn’t say anything about it to any of the others? Well, then it was just their little secret.

...

After the sleepover… Incident, most everyone agreed that Richie and Eddie had created a bond with each other that ran far deeper than friendship. Even if nothing had ever been explicitly stated, the two just seemed to be under the mental agreement that they were, well…. Each other’s second half, essentially.

Richie no longer borrowed clothing from any of the Alpha Losers that wasn’t Eddie. Eddie would let only Richie splay out on his lap on the couch when they were watching movies in Stan’s basement. They would play with each other’s hair while working on homework or playing games— Eddie would comb his fingers through Richie’s dark, messy curls until none of them were tangled, and Richie would fuss with the small curls at the nape of Eddie’s neck whenever his hair would get close to needing a trim.

Despite said previously listed effects, both seemed completely oblivious to just how close they were. It didn’t even really boil over to a head until the spring of their senior year of high school a year and a half later— With only about two months left before they were to graduate, all of the Losers had felt that creeping anxiety always stuck just at the back of their throat upon thinking of being split up once they all went to college. Eddie had been accepted to NYU. Bill had managed to get in on a writing scholarship to UCLA. Bev had been blessed with an apprenticeship-esque experience in fashion design in Chicago as a jumpstart to her college career, which meant Ben was following her to Chicago. He was going for architecture, and was excited to try for a minor in poetry and literature as well. Even Stan and Mike had been able to find colleges near Bill, who they _both_ seemed to be having their own thing with.

Which left Richie. Richie had struggled _big-time_ with his college applications, and even his safety net schools had been squelched under the rejection-letter boot. He was left _really_ praying that his current gig as a radio-show host on the weekends would be enough until he could get accepted into college, but that was a pretty big _if_. It wasn’t even that he lacked the grades— He had gotten a 35 on his ACT, and his grades throughout highschool had been high enough to keep him coasting on a 3.9 GPA. It _would_ have been a 4.0, but his bastard of a chemistry teacher had given him a C in the class because he never took notes and would flunk the binder checks as a result. He thought the whole notion was stupid, but no amount of bitching had fixed his grade. No, it was more of the fact that nothing really seemed to be enough of a passion for him to want to drop the kind of money college required. He was a jokester, and most colleges didn’t offer degrees in the major for being a trashmouth. Not to mention there were _very_ few Omega comedians in the world that made it big.

“Rich?” A hand waved in front of his face, and Richie instinctively yelped and tried to swat it away, huffing and flushing red when he heard an amused snort from Eddie.

“If you’re offering me a handjob, Eds, I gotta tell ya, there’s _way_ better ways to propose the offer,” Richie said instinctively, relaxing a little when Eddie’s face morphed into the safely-familiar scowl of displeasure at the crude joke.

“Beep beep, Richie. I was gonna remind you we have five minutes before lunch ends and you haven’t touched a damn thing on your plate. Just ‘cause finals week fucked up the lunch schedule and Ben isn’t here doesn’t mean I’m gonna let you ignore your food.” Eddie motioned to the neglected plate of the school’s half-decent mac n’ cheese on Richie’s tray. The mac n’ cheese was really one of the better things served at Derry High School, if given a choice. 

Realizing that he had completely zoned out, Richie nodded and promptly shoveled half of the cold pasta into his mouth, grinning with stuffed cheeks at Eddie like a proud chipmunk and laughing when Eddie blanched in disgust. “What? I’m eating, now!” Richie chimed, mouth still full of food.

“ _Blegh_! Dammit, Rich, that’s fucking disgusting! What are you, a dog?!” The brunet scolded, the scowl on his face only creasing deeper when Richie nodded and gave a playful _‘yip’_ at him, his mouth still full and now mid-chew.

As the bell rang a few minutes later and they stood up to empty their trays, Eddie tugged Richie back a bit, holding them back for a moment through the slew of the crowd of teenagers all shuffling back to the classrooms to finish their dreaded finals. “Hey,” He said, seeing Richie perk up an eyebrow, “Are you… _Actually_ good? You were pretty spaced out earlier. I was trying to get your attention for like, five whole minutes,” He said, frowning when Richie smiled all too quickly.

“Nothing to worry about here, Spaghetti. Just thinking about how nice it’s gonna be to have your mom all to myself once we graduate,” Richie laughed, a little too loud and a little too quick.

“Beep beep, dickhead. I’m worried. You’ve been spacey lately…. Did you get a reply from NYU yet?” Eddie gave him a stubborn look, and Richie did feel himself yielding to the Alpha despite himself.

“I saw a letter in the mailbox yesterday, but I haven’t opened it yet. Might as well wait ‘til the weekend to celebrate another rejection letter with booze, right?”

“Rich, dammit, _c'mon_! You _promised_ you’d tell me as soon as you got the letter!” Eddie crossed his arms at that, and Richie held his hands up in surrender.

“I know, I know, alright? I’m sorry, Eds. I just— Y’know how _little_ a guy wants to open his fifteenth college letter when the past fourteen have all been rejections? I just don’t see the point in getting my hopes up.”

Eddie sighed deep in his chest, pinching the bridge of his nose and scowling deeper when he felt Richie’s finger press the crinkle in his brows. “Will you open it tonight? Please? For me? Hell, I’ll come over and we can open it together if it’ll make ya feel better.” He finally sighed.

Richie blinked, seeming genuinely caught off guard at the offer and faltering for a moment before he gave Eddie a grateful smile. “Fine,” He hummed, mostly trying to keep up his cool facade, “Just don’t get surprised when it says ‘sorry, but no thanks’ like all the others. Hey, maybe you can bring some thumbtacks and we can pin it up on my wall like all the other ones!”

“Beep fucking beep, Richie.”

…

Eddie hadn’t actually been in Richie’s _room_ since he had presented their junior year. Whenever they hung out, it was either in the living room, basement, or kitchen, or occasionally in Richie’s backyard on the shoddily-built patio swing his Dad built when they were thirteen. The damn thing always looked like it was on the verge of falling apart, but it was stubborn as a mule and had yet to so much as make a single sign that it was actually going to fall apart like its appearance would suggest.

Richie had claimed his room was far too messy to show, what with his nest always leaving his bed unmade and haphazard looking. Eddie knew better than to question it— An Omega’s nest was their safe space, their retreat during their heats and where they hid when scared or vulnerable.

Which was what kind of made Richie taking him up to his bedroom afterschool that evening that much more surprising— Moreso than Richie actually taking him up on his offer to be there to open the letter with him, even. “Wait— You weren’t serious about the thumb-tacks, were you?” Eddie blurted as Richie turned the doorknob to his room.

“As a heart attack, Spaghetti. Why? Afraid the dirty laundry on my floor is gonna come eat you?” Richie hummed, opening the door to his room and trying to play it off like this was just a casual thing they did all the time. He didn’t _want_ to admit that he had to open his letters in his room because the stress was just too much in any other room in the house.

“Ugh, that’s so fucking gross, Rich. If it’s been on the floor long enough to form life, maybe I should start writing my will now,” Eddie snipped right back, albeit a little forced. Once he stepped over the threshold, he tried not to notice the instinctual noise of praise trying to crawl up his throat at the sight of Richie’s nest— Despite how tall Richie was, his nest was still rather small and cozy looking, layered with multiple fluffy throw blankets, a few duvets and more pillows than Eddie could count on one hand. “It’s uh— It looks nice,” He finally sputtered lamely, giving Richie an awkward smile, “Looks comfortable. You uh— You must get some good sleep at night.” Ouch _, way to make that one fall as flat on its face as you possibly could, idiot._

“Yeah,” Richie nodded, clearly floundering just as far out in the field as Eddie was at the moment, “The pillows are real nice to curl up with when it gets drafty in here,” He said, looking around the room before darting over to his desk, which was cluttered with ripped-open college letters spanning the country. California, Illinois, Indiana, hell even one from Georgia. The only one left unopened was the newest one from NYU, and Richie snatched it from the pile with a forced grin. “Aw’right, Eds, let's get this shit-show over with. Hey, at least you’ll finally know what a rejection letter sounds like, just gotta replace my name with yours and it’ll be a whole experience,” He babbled as he shrugged his backpack off, sitting down on his swivel chair and motioning for Eddie to sit down on the overstuffed bean bag chair near his small bookshelf of knick-knacks and comic books.

“Will you quit it with the whole putting yourself down already shit? Seriously, Rich, you haven’t even opened it yet!” Eddie scolded as he sat down, giving an _‘oof’_ as he sunk into the chair a little lower than he was expecting to. “Damn, didn’t you just get this thing in, like, December? How the hell is it so flat on the bottom already?” He added, seeing Richie shrug and rolling his eyes back at him. “You lose the instructions on how to fluff it back up again?” He hummed knowingly.

“Maybe,” Richie said as he rummaged through his desk drawer for a letter opener, “Maybe I just like my bean bags flat so I can break this sweet, flat ass,” He snorted, humming in triumph once he finally found his letter opener and waving the dull blade of it at the younger teen. “Alright, Spaghetti. Brace yourself,” He chuckled, opening the letter and trying to keep up his relaxed facade as best he could.

His palms were sweating though, and he nearly fumbled the letter-opener out of his grip, finally managing to get the damn envelope open and dropping it back on his desk. He pulled out the neatly folded paper, opening it with a cheeky, all-too-self-deprecating grin. “Dear Mister Tozier, we’re proud to announce to you that your application to the New York University has been accepted—” He cut off, eyes going wide and eyes shooting up to look at Eddie.

Eddie, that prick, was just smiling at him like the sun was shining out of his ass, and Richie had to quickly fight to keep tears from starting. “Well,” Eddie hummed, “I don’t think that sounds like a rejection letter. In my humble opinion, anyways,” He said, only to frown and blink when Richie made a strangled noise in his throat. “Rich?” He said, voice a bit softer now.

“I actually got in,” Richie croaked, hands shaking as he clutched to the paper, ignoring how it crinkled at the sides, “I-I— I got in— They— They actually fuckin’ accepted me in!” He didn’t even really seem to realize what had happened until Eddie was coming up to him, grabbing a tissue from the box on his desk and holding it in front of his face. “Gawds, how— How uncool is this? I get my first acceptance letter and I _still_ managed to cry like a fuckin’ kid over it,” He laughed bitterly, lifting his glasses up so he could take the tissue and wipe at his eyes. “Sorry Eds, maybe ya shouldn't have come over, I know I look like a drowned rat when I cry,” He added, only to feel two warm, strong hands on his cheeks, squishing his face and making his lips pout a little from the motion. The hands were soft from constant lotioning, and even with his glasses all fogged up from crying did he know that could only be from his favorite resident Spaghetti-Head— Beyond the fact that Eddie was the only other person in the room, obviously.

“You know I couldn’t give less of a fuck of what you look like when you cry, right?” Eddie said bluntly, “You got accepted into college. That’s— _Huge!_ You worked hard and you deserve it! You have a right to get emotional, dude,” He insisted, voice firm and non-negotiable, yet reassuring all the same. “If you wanna yuck it up and cry… I won’t say anything,” He added, a bit softer this time.

Richie sniffed, laughing weakly at that and wiping his eyes again before deciding to go sans-glasses entirely until he was done crying. “Ya wouldn’t mind lil’ ol’ me gettin’ snot all over your precious polo?” He asked, already moving to stand up once he tossed his glasses on his desk with the envelope and letter-opener.

“Don’t push your luck,” Eddie warned, only to blink in surprise when Richie hugged onto him and burrowed his head into his neck, sniffling and shaking. “Alright, alright— Here,” He huffed, moving them to sit down on the bean-bag chair and hugging Richie close properly, resting his chin on Richie’s head and lightly rubbing his back. “Just… Let it out, man,” He said quietly, “You did good. I’m… Really proud of you, Rich,” He gave a small smile, cheeks flushing red as Richie looked up at him, uncharacteristically small for just a moment. Without his glasses on, Richie’s eyes seemed so much bigger and brighter blue, and even with snot all down his nose and face a puffy pink from the tears, something about the sight had Eddie’s heart aching sharply.

“Really?” Richie asked quietly, sniffling again and relaxing visibly when Eddie’s free hand tangled into his messy curls to scratch lightly at his scalp.

Eddie gave a tender smile back, tugging Richie back down against his chest again and nodding his head. “Really.” He said, tucking his head back against Richie’s own and letting himself just get lost in the calming, repetitive motions of rubbing Richie’s back and scratching at his scalp, occasionally even indulging in a few skims through his soft curls.

“Hey Eds?” Richie mumbled a good twenty minutes or so later, voice sleepy and muffled.

“Mm?”

“‘M glad you’re here,” Richie said quietly.

“Yeah, man, of course—”

“Will ya lemme finish, for once? I swear I’m not fuckin’ around, Eds, lemme finish,” Richie huffed, head peeking up a small bit. Eddie made an apologetic noise and even apologetically raised his hands in surrender, and Richie relaxed. “‘M glad you’re here… ‘Cause… I mean, you’re kinda the whole reason I even _applied_ to NYU in the first place. I mean, yeah, they’ve got a semi-decent major for trashmouths like me, but…. I mean, I mostly did it to, y’know… Stay near you,” He mumbled the last part, feeling the hands that had been rubbing at his head and back pause and stiffening.

“Rich?” Richie felt his stomach clench. _Fuck, did I mess it up? Should I have said it differently? I thought for sure that saying it like that could’ve been taken either way—_ “Will you look at me for a minute, asshole?” Eddie huffed, poking at Richie until he finally lifted his head up, “I— Oi. You had your turn to speak, douchebag, now let _me_ talk. You can’t go on a big sappy rant then shut down on me, dick, that’s not how this works,” He snipped, Richie just averting his eyes and whining when Eddie poked at his nose.

“Ya can’t ever shut this mouth up, Spaghetti, you know tha— _Mmpf!”_ Richie’s voice cut off the moment he felt Eddie’s hands move to his waist, a warm mouth closing over his own in what had to be one of the best moments of his existence to date.

Kissing Richie is honestly way sweeter than Eddie imagined— Not that he would ever admit he had fantasized about kissing his best friend before. Sure, there was the underlying sugary sweetness of the bubblegum that Richie had been chewing on during the bike-ride home, but just beneath that was something undeniably different that Eddie had a feeling was just plain _Richie_. Neither of them had much experience with kissing, but Richie had responded almost immediately when Eddie lightly nipped at his bottom lip and shifted to deepen the kiss. The fact that said response was a whimper is what was driving Eddie up the wall. It seemed like an eternity had passed and yet it still wasn’t enough when they had to break apart for air, Richie’s face flushed a deep scarlet and chest heaving as he caught his breath. “Yowza,” He laughed breathlessly, “You oughta warn a guy first, Eds,” He tried to joke, though it was clear he was just speaking to fill the silence.

“You weren’t listening to me when I was trying to say as much,” Eddie shrugged, “So you didn’t get a warning.” He hummed, hands still on Richie’s waist and absentmindedly kneading into the soft skin of his hip bones, watching curiously as Richie all but melted under the touch.

“So… If I shut up, you’ll do it again?” Richie asked.

Eddie nodded, only to blink in surprise when Richie leaned down, pressing right up against his collarbone and nosing against it. “Rich?” He breathed out, hands stilling for just a moment.

“Please don’t just be fucking around,” Richie pleaded quietly, voice strangled all of the sudden, “Because I _really_ gotta know now if you are—”

“Richie.”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up and get back up here.” Richie gladly did, and this time, he made sure to breathe through his nose the whole time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bill denbrough’s evil fashion sense is real and it stole all my denim clothing items >:(


	3. College

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> College is both the best thing ever, and the worst thing ever. To Richie, anyways.
> 
> Studying, no co-ed dorms... Oh, and of course his stupid heats rearing their ugly head and making him miss his first big test.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So with everything that’s been happening in the world, I wanted to say this now; Black Lives Matter is one of the movements that I have always supported with my whole heart. Please please please sign every petition you possibly can. Donate to bail out funds, protestors who need supplies, and anyone you see who needs it, especially the families of those who have lost someone to police brutality. Stay safe, and know you will always have my support.
> 
> [This chapter is dedicated to Jessica, the love of my life, my best friend and my beautiful wifey that I would do anything for.]

Finally getting to move out of the house for college is simultaneously the best and worst thing ever, in Richie’s humble opinion.

It was the best thing ever, because they were _finally_ out of the stinking hellhole that was their hometown of Derry, Maine. Eddie was out from under his mother’s oppressive thumb, and Richie was finally able to stop taking scent blockers on the daily just so he didn’t get his ass beaten for being a freak by Derry standards. The other Losers were all just a phone call away, and they had all planned on coming back together for Christmas, and then again during Spring Break.

However, it was at the same time the _worst_ thing ever, because NYU didn’t let Alphas and Omegas dorm together in the same room unless they had already mated. They _also_ didn’t let students have their own apartments until they were sophomores, or if they lived off campus, which Eddie nor Richie could afford, even on a combined budget. Which left them stuck a floor apart, Eddie just one floor above Richie. 

Eddie tried to make light of it. “I’m always just a floor away, Rich, not two houses down the street. We both have single person dorms anyways, you know you can come up here whenever you need to.”

But it was more of a principle kind of thing to Richie. He and Eddie had spent the whole summer basically attached at the hip at his house, as seeing once Eddie had made it clear to his Ma that he was going to NYU whether she liked it or not, she had essentially kicked him out. Not that Eddie had particularly minded— The Toziers had always liked him, and he had even paid his share of ‘rent’ to them for the summer, though he was rather annoyed to find that they had sent him a check with all of said rent money returned to him on his first week at college.

Richie had laughed and insisted to Eddie that that was just how his family was, and Eddie had been left to sullenly take the money back and insist that he was getting Went and Maggie Tozier something to knock their socks off for Christmas, and this time he wasn’t going to take no for an answer if they tried to fuss.

Their first couple weeks on campus were honestly rather tame— Richie and Eddie had both been settling into their courses pretty well. They would meet up for lunch at the food court every day, and then would wait for each other outside of their final class of the day to walk to the library and get a start on any homework either of them had until dinner, then would head back to the food court before it was back to their dorms for the night. As classes got busier and more in-the grove of things, that pattern was slowly chipped away, sans their daily lunch ‘meeting.’ They _always_ got lunch together, if for no other reason than because they were both a constant reminder to each other to actually go and _eat_ something instead of surviving off of a coffee and a piece of toast or a banana until five in the afternoon. Usually, Richie would lay his head on Eddie’s lap when he inevitably finished his food first, and Eddie would play with his hair while Richie babbled some story or another about one of his many misadventures in his classes.

However, about two weeks after Eddie’s nineteenth birthday and a month into the swing of things, Richie had been more stressed out than usual. Eddie swore that it was the only reason that the heavy weight that had been settled on his chest since that day in Richie’s bedroom suddenly seemed so much more overwhelming. Seeing his best friend and boyfriend spiraling into a manic, study-fueled haze was something that Eddie had never seen before in the thirteen years that he had known him. Hell, he was pretty sure he had seen that Richie had only gone to the library on his _own_ to study maybe a handful of times, and as someone who had been seen _actually_ studying in said library maybe once or twice before in Eddie’s lifetime, well… It was weird, to put it mildly. To Eddie, his worry practically suffocated him every time he saw Richie, who had been looking more and more haggard by the hour, and had been for the past few days.

It reached the tipping point mid week.

...

“Rich, seriously, can you put the book away for ten minutes while we’re actually able to eat dinner together for once?” Eddie asked, finally at his sanity’s end at about half past five, only an hour before the food court would get too busy for him to stand.

“Mm?” Richie looked up, and Eddie frowned when he saw how pronounced the dark circles under his eyes seemed. God, they looked even more bruise-like than they had been that morning, and it had been bad enough earlier that Eddie had been completely convinced that Richie had been beaten up. “Sorry, Spaghetti, I’m just gettin’ to the good part.”

“... The good part about how to use imaginary numbers?” Eddie asked incredulously.

“... Yeah?”

“Richie, give me the book,” Eddie deadpanned, holding his hand out and promptly taking the book to snap it shut once Richie guiltily handed it over. “Come over here and come sit with me,” He said, voice a bit softer this time. There was an empty chair beside him for once, and he made a small noise of relief as Richie gave a dramatic sigh, but still got up and immediately plopped down next to him.

The taller boy heaved out a loud sigh, and rested his head on Eddie’s shoulder once he was comfortable. “Alright, Eds, I’m over here. What do I win?” Richie asked, his voice seemingly cheerful but missing its usual, playful spark.

“Me, worrying over you,” Eddie said, motioning for Richie to sit up so he could lightly press the back of his hand against Richie’s forehead. “Are you feeling okay? You look… Like shit, Rich. No offense. Have you been getting enough sleep? You’re pretty warm, too.”

“Aw, Eds, are you calling me _hot?_ ” Richie waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Eddie scowled, “Be serious, Richie,” He scolded.

“Eds, seriously, I’m _fine!_ It’s just this dumb test comin’ up tomorrow. It’s got me all stressed out, dude,” Richie finally relented, raising his hands in surrender when Eddie gave him a rather disbelieving look. “Listen Eds, I tell ya what. If I still feel all stressed tonight when I’m done studying, I’ll come up and let ya know, alright?”

Eddie didn’t seem convinced, but it was as good of a compromise as they were going to get for the time being. “Alright,” He finally caved, a deep sigh rumbling through his chest, “But I want you to try and get some decent sleep for once. You look like you haven’t slept in a week, Rich.”

“Eh, only about four hours the past five days, but I don’t think that’s _that_ bad.” Richie said, quickly realizing that was the _wrong_ thing to say upon seeing Eddie’s eyes go wide in horror. “Or, uh— Did I say four? I meant, uh, like, fourteen. Fourteen hours is a decent number, right?”

“Richie!” Eddie gaped, “You can’t be serious! _Four_ hours of sleep?! No— No, Richie, c’mon, we’ve talked about this! You need sleep to function! How are you even up and _moving_ right now?!”

“Uhm, like, eight cups of coffee, ‘m pretty sure.”

“Richard Tozier, I am gonna kick your ass if you are trying to fuck around with me.”

“Funny as it would be to watch you try to kick my ass, no, Spaghetti-Man, this is not a joke,” Richie said, shrugging his shoulders and bowing his head with a mock, crestfallen look.

“Alright. Finish your food. We’re going back to the dorms and _you_ are gonna go to bed and get some sleep. Jesus, Rich, I’m tempted to take your coffee maker.”

“Yeah right. You wouldn’t dare,” Eddie gave him a challenging stare, and Richie stiffened, “You little shit, don’t even joke about my coffee machine like that,” When Eddie didn’t stand down, Richie gaped in horror, which Eddie immediately matched with another scowl that just screamed _Try me, bitch._

“I will. I’ll unplug it and I’ll hide your coffee grounds. I’m not gonna let you destruct yourself over some stupid test about numbers that technically don’t even fucking exist.”

“If they _actually_ didn’t exist, they wouldn’t even have a name, dipshit,” Richie snipped back, clearly a little grouchy now and whining unhappily when he was rewarded with Eddie very firmly draping his jacket over Richie’s shoulders, basically warning the Omega that he was standing his ground on this one. “Fine. But if I flunk this thing I’m gonna be pissed.”

“You’re pissy anyways, I’ll live.”

“God, you’re such a fucking _asshole_ when you’re stubborn.”

“When it comes to making sure you don’t accidentally kill yourself after only drinking coffee for a week?” Eddie scoffed, “Yeah. I’ll take the title of asshole happily. Better than _you_ taking the title of getting sick as a dog because you weren’t taking care of yourself.”

Richie just scowled, and stabbed his fork into the mushy remains of his mashed potatoes.

He hated it when Eddie was right.

… 

After a long shower and a tearful goodbye to his coffee maker and his bag of coffee beans for the night, Richie had reluctantly settled into bed at only a quarter past eight. He had the fan blasting at him dead on, switched up to the highest setting it could go. He was clothed only in his boxers, laying there with almost all of the blankets in his nest kicked off for a good half hour before he finally managed to doze off into a fitful sleep, and it graced him with a two-hour power nap before he awoke again, soaked in cold sweat and disoriented. 

Slowly wobbling to his feet, he grabbed the nearest shirt he could find, a wash-faded purple shirt with a well-loved _SchoolHouse Rock_ logo peeling off in bits on the front of it. Once he tugged it on, nearly knocking himself over in the process, he grabbed one of his blankets, his dorm key, and promptly shuffled out of the room to the stairs. It was just one flight up, but it took him a good ten minutes to make his way up the stairs, and as soon as he was on the floor of his destination, he immediately gravitated to Eddie’s room, not so much knocking on the door but more just slumping his head against it and thumping his head on the door repeatedly. “Eds,” He whined, “It’s me, open up,” He called, voice scratchy from sleep and eyes still mostly closed as the cool wood of the door started to warm up under his forehead.

It took a few more moments, but finally the lock clicked from the other side, and he practically stumbled into the room as the door swung out from under him upon opening.

“Woah— Jesus, Rich, hey— What happened?” Eddie was quick to steady him as soon as he saw the taller boy sway, and once Richie was no longer at risk of falling over, he tugged Richie inside and locked the door again behind him. “Rich?” He frowned worriedly, only to blink in surprise as Richie hugged up against him, head burrowing into the crook of his shoulder and body relaxing.

“Couldn’t sleep. My room’s too hot,” Richie mumbled, though, with his blanket tugged tight around his shoulders, and body visibly shivering, Eddie would have guessed he was cold.

“Alright… Here, come lay down with me,” Eddie said, trying to gently coax Richie into laying back down and frowning a little deeper as Richie burrowed into his sheets and immediately made grabby hands for him. He laid back down and hugged both arms around the taller teen, stroking lightly at his back with one hand while his other went to cup at Richie’s face. “Rich…? Bub, can you look at me?” He asked, still more anxious yet when Richie’s eyes just barely cracked open enough to peer at him before they slipped shut again in lieu of Richie nuzzling into his head instead. “Rich… Maybe you should stay back from classes tomorrow, I think you’re really getting sick. You’re burning up.”

“Mm-Nn… No can do, Spaghetti-Man, gotta… Gotta take my test tomorrow,” Richie insisted, though he sounded so out of it that Eddie wasn’t even convinced Richie knew what the test was going to be about.

“Richie, c’mon,” Eddie tried again, voice pleading, “You’re sick. The professor isn’t gonna fail you because you missed _one_ test. Especially if it was because you were sick as a dog and have a thermometer to prove it.”

“Ya clearly haven’t met _this_ bitch, then,” Richie snorted, head tucking into Eddie’s chest and a weak whine slipping from his throat as his boyfriend’s soothing scent filled his nose, “She _hates_ me. She’ll probably find any excuse she possibly can to fail this sweet ass,” He mumbled, voice starting to grow softer as he grew more and more drowsy.

“Ugh,” Eddie groaned softly, “Will you promise me that after lunch, you’ll come straight back home then?” He conceded, sighing in relief when Richie nodded. “Fine… But that’s _it_. After that, I’m taking care of you until you’re not sick anymore, alright?” Richie nodded, and Eddie sighed once more in forfeit. 

Just as he was sure that Richie had nodded off again, he _swore_ he heard Richie mumble something in a sweet tone that he hadn’t ever heard Richie use before. “ _My Alpha takes such good care’a me._ ”

It had Eddie wide awake for the rest of the night.

…

While waiting for Richie to show up to meet him for lunch at the campus food court later the next day like they had agreed upon, Eddie ended up unknowingly catching up on what seemed to the tail end of one of the multitude of conversations around him— It had seemed fairly innocuous at first, innocent snippets of the conversation piquing his interest, but as the words dragged on, the already cold lump in his stomach that had been there since that same time yesterday had started to grow and gnaw uncomfortably on his insides.

“Yeah, did you hear? Jenna said one of the guys in her general studies algebra class went into heat during their test. The professor like, freaked out, ‘cause they’re really just like, a TA, and not like, a _real_ professor, and had like, _no_ idea how to get him outta there before all the Alphas in the room tried to chomp a mark on his neck.”

“Geez, I can’t tell if I feel sorry for the guy, or if I think he’s a dumbass for going to class if he knew he was in preheat.”

“Well, like, that’s the _thing_. I don’t think he _realized_ he was in preheat. From what Jenna told me, she said she was pretty close to him and he just looked like he hadn’t gotten any sleep— Y’know, like he had been cramming for the test and just didn’t sleep. She said she wasn’t really gonna judge, she was like, totally fucked over for the test too, but halfway through, he laid his head down and his scent just like, _spiked_. I mean, I know it can happen _sometimes_ if like, your nest is too far away from you or something and you’re like, super stressed. Especially if you’re, like, getting close to a heat anyways, but I thought that was just, like, a myth.”

“I mean, it can _happen_ , but yeah, when I was in my general Omega studies class we kinda talked about it, but it’s like, _super_ rare. Maybe he was just off ‘cause he was so worried about the test or something?”

“Maybe. Either way, I feel bad for whoever had to help get him back to his dorm— From what Jenna told me, he’s like, as far from looking like an Omega as could be. Super tall and lanky. From what she’s seen in class, he’s like, a _big_ jokester. Probably hard to find a mate if you act like that. Kinda sad, too. She said he smelled really sweet and was practically crying— She said he _totally_ didn’t look the type to like, burst out crying in the middle of class. She felt pretty bad.”

Finally, after a good ten minutes of innocently listening in on the conversation, the initial lump in his stomach felt more like a massive pit, threatening to swallow him whole.

Eddie had had enough of listening at that point, standing up rather forcefully and nearly knocking over his chair in the process. The two girls that had been chatting behind him didn’t even notice, and he scowled at their backs as he threw his empty tray back onto the dish-washing bin. 

He couldn’t focus on anything other than anger— At himself, mostly. He had _told_ him last night that he was worried that Richie had been a little off the past few days, and Richie had just insisted that he would handle it _after_ his test. Richie had been _in his arms_ last night, feverish and shaking after having come to his door in the middle of the night, and Eddie had been too blind to realize that his boyfriend was going into preheat.

What kind of shit Alpha missed that their boyfriend was going into preheat and needed their nest when it was literally staring him smack dab in the face?

After the good five-minute power-walk back to his dorm, Eddie wasn’t that shocked to see that the whole place had been cleared out. Most everyone was still in classes anyways, but as soon as he approached the main entrance, keys in hand, one of the school officers stopped him in his tracks. “Sorry, son, this building is closed until six.”

“What— Why?! That’s bullshit— My boyfriend is sick!” Eddie puffed up his chest and bristled when the officer rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, sure. You and every other Alpha with a nose has their boyfriend in there ‘sick’ right now.”

Eddie snarled low in his throat. “Richard Tozier. Freshman in General Studies. Floor six. Omega. About six foot one, but that asshole is still growing. Lanky as a damn beanpole. Big glasses the half the size of his face. Messy black hair that looks like he doesn’t own a hairbrush. Big blue eyes. Constant sex jokes. Nineteen years old. Room 18B on the left side of the hallway, the one with the dick drawn on the end of the ‘B.’ Born in 1976, on March—” 

The officer cut him off with a loud huff of annoyance. “Alright, alright. You’ve made your damn point,” The man said, scrubbing his face with his hands, “I'm not paid enough to deal with you little shits.” With that, the man led him inside, motioning to the other officers inside that Eddie had permission to be there and leading him over to the main stairwell. “We’ve been trying to communicate with the school to find out when the soonest available heat room is going to open up, but so far they’ve insisted they won’t have one ready until seven at the earliest. ‘Til then, you’re both gonna have to be stuck in here.”

“Fine,” Eddie grit out, trying his hardest to keep his cool amidst the suffocatingly sweet scent of his boyfriend that was starting to drown out his senses, “As soon as it’s ready, is one of you gonna come up to let us know?” He said.

“Yep. Try not to bite anyone’s fingers off when they knock on the door,” One officer joked dryly, scowling when Eddie growled low in his throat and bared his teeth. Once he was finally given the go-head to go upstairs, Eddie did so without a second thought.

Richie needed him.

…

Going to class had to be one of the worst fucking mistakes of Richie’s life. Worse than trying to buy a dildo from Keene’s Pharmacy. Worse than wearing Bill’s jacket at Mike’s two years ago. Worse than _anything_.

He had barely been able to breathe the whole walk to class, and once he was in his seat and the test was put in front of him, he had managed to scribble his name down on the line before he felt it— Slick, starting to soak through his pants, slowly creeping up his backside. It felt like he was burning from the inside out, and he had only just managed to lay his head down and bury his head in his arms before he gave a muffled whimper of pain. _Eddie_ , his mind begged, _Need Eddie. Need Alpha— Alpha will help make it stop. Alpha will take care of me_.

“Richie?” The girl next to him— Jenny? Josie? Her name started with a ‘J’, he knew that much— Had put her hand on his shoulder, and the fellow soothing scent of an Omega did calm him down just a little.

“Hey— Do you need me to get the professor?” Janet asked. Richie whimpered again, nodding his head and trying to press his legs together as he felt more slick dampening his shorts, the sickeningly sweet smell starting to become stronger as the seconds ticked by.

A few of the Alphas in the class had started to notice, because Richie could feel their hungry gazes prickling over his skin. One of them made a hungry sounding growl in his throat, like he was fresh meat in front of a starving wolf, and finally he gave a wet sob, shaking his head as if to try and steer the eyes away from him. _Not Eddie. Need Eddie. Eddie can help. He promised he would help._

“Uhm— I don’t know who Eddie is— Here, lemme go get the professor.” Shit, he must have been whining for Eddie out loud, because Janice had stood up, and the hand on his shoulder was gone. Richie sobbed again, this time feeling completely alone and trying to curl up on himself.

His body was screaming for his nest, he could barely breathe, and all those damned Alphas were _still fucking staring at him_ , like he wasn’t even a person, just a damn meal!

He didn’t really remember getting back to his dorm after that. There had been a bunch of school officers that had come into the classroom to hold some of the Alphas back while his professor had managed to coax his dorm building and room number out of him, and then it became a blur of hazy faces leading him to a police car and muffled words floating through the wooly cotton of his brain before he was finally stumbling into his nest and sobbing into his pillow. 

The door to his room clicked shut after he heard the sound of his backpack being set down by the doorframe, and then he was blissfully, painfully alone again. Before he even seemed conscious that he was doing it, Richie began rutting weakly against one of the pillows near his hips while his head dug into one of the hoodies that Eddie let him borrow. 

“ _Eddie!_ ” He all but wailed to no one in particular, mostly just trying to call his Alpha to him as he scrabbled at his sweat-soaked shirt, trying clumsily to tug it off and knocking his glasses off as he did. His fan was doing little to cool him off even once his shirt was off, so, after haphazardly kicking off his shoes, he tried to yank his khaki shorts off next, yowling in pain as the still-clasped button dug directly into his aching cock. He managed to get his shorts and boxers down about mid-thigh before his brain had to focus on stopping the pain— before he lost his mind in the craze of his heat.

The dark-haired teen rolled back over onto his stomach, raising his hips and weakly fisting his cock with a shaking palm while his other hand drifted to his backside. “Alpha,” He whined brokenly once he managed to sink a finger into himself, the feeling not nearly enough and slick still dribbling out between his legs and down his wrist, “Need Alpha, _please_ ,” He pleaded to the empty air, rocking his hips forward into his palm before sinking back onto his fingers, having decidedly stuffed two more fingers in with ease once he realized that just one did basically nothing.

He managed to come once before he broke down completely in wracking sobs, openly wailing for Eddie as loud as he could, trying desperately to bring his Alpha to him. _How long was he going to be alone, wailing for his boyfriend to help him when he needed it_ so _badly? Eddie had promised him once he took his test, he would come back and take care of him while he was sick. Was Eddie not here because he couldn’t even start his test? Was he being a_ bad _Omega?_

His mind just circled around those thoughts and nothing else for hours.

…

Richie completely missed the sound of the knock on his door at about half past two, as did he miss Eddie’s voice worriedly calling his name when he seemed to gain enough mental clarity for a five-minute lull in his heat. He was still trying to pull his mind together enough to debate whether getting a water bottle from his dumpy mini-fridge would kill him or not when the sound of the lock to the door of his tiny dorm room started to click open. Now _that_ had his attention immediately, and his thoughts began racing into overdrive as quickly as they could manage. _Was one of the school officers back already? It hadn't even been ten minutes yet!_

“Why do you guys still have my dorm key?!” Richie yelled, though it was too late. The door opened, and immediately panic and raw adrenaline flooded through his veins at the thought of the safety of his nest being infringed upon. Yowling sharply as his safe space was basically broken into, Richie pulled himself about halfway up off the bed, grabbed the closest hard object he could find— a well-loved, half-empty box of tissues— and chucked them in the general direction of the door— Or, well, what he _thought_ was the blurry off-white, borderline grey-brown outline of the door. 

He missed by a long shot, but was rewarded with a surprised yelp. “Hey— Jesus, Richie, calm down! It’s me!” _Eddie_.

“ _Alpha_ ,” Richie’s voice didn’t sound like his own as soon as the words were out of his mouth, and he just barely managed to raise his head from where he had slumped back against his pillows. _God what kind of horrible Omega doesn’t even recognize the smell of their own Alpha? He’s gonna want to leave and not help you with your heat._

The cruel thoughts finally had him giving a pathetic sob once Eddie’s blurry form was close enough that he could actually make out some of the smaller teen’s features. For a brief moment, Richie was confused as to why he couldn’t see Eddie unless he was this close to him, but then his heat-drunk brain helpfully reminded him that his glasses had been thrown off somewhere in his room in his haste to get his clothes off. 

Not that he could even be bothered to try and find them at the moment. 

“ _Alpha_ , please— Hurts— Hurts so bad, Alpha, need you— Need help,” The blue-eyed teen could barely catch his breath, and it only took Eddie moving before he was openly sobbing, gasping and choking on his own cries as Eddie knelt down beside him and cupped his face with one hand. Eddie sighed softly, grabbing Richie’s haphazardly-thrown glasses from where they were tangled up in his shirt just beside his abandoned backpack on the floor.

“Shh,” Eddie whispered, stroking some of the sweat-dampened curls from Richie’s face just enough to get his glasses back on, “Rich, it’s okay,” He tried to reassure, mostly hoping to keep Richie from hyperventilating or panicking further, “I’m here. It’s alright. I’ve got you.”

With Eddie back into focus and his glasses back on his face, Richie just sniffled miserably, trying to stubbornly dig his head into the soft palm of Eddie’s hand. “Hurts, Alpha— C-Can’t— Can’t do it without you here,” He babbled, whining again as Eddie cupped his face and stroked some of the slick, dark hair that had fallen from behind his ear back out of his eyes again.

“I know, baby,” Eddie whispered, “But you gotta calm down first. Okay? Just so you don’t start hyperventilating,” He murmured. In the back of his mind, Eddie was honestly a bit shocked that he was keeping his cool as well as he was— Sure, he had seen Richie’s heats before, but Richie had always been hidden away from him during them just so neither of them were tempted to start something they weren’t ready for. But _this?_ Richie, sobbing in his nest, begging for him to knot him, claim him and stuff him full until his heat was successful? Eddie was way out in the deep end with no life-raft in sight, and yet he was still treading above water like he had known exactly what to do from the word go. “Rich, before I can do anything… I gotta take care of you first, okay?” Eddie babbled, hands still stroking through Richie’s hair and lips layering soothing kisses along the crown of Richie’s forehead while his breathing evened out from its initial frantic pace.

“Eds,” Richie mumbled, head seemingly clear enough to call Eddie something other than _Alpha_ , “‘m on the pill. Need you,” He croaked, voice raw from his earlier wailing, “Need you… Shoulda stayed here with you, Eds, shoulda listened— Y-you knew I was sick, a-and I was bein’ bad and I didn’t listen—!” Just as he started to go into another bout of hysterics, Eddie shut it down then and there.

“ _Richie_ ,” Eddie really hated using the strong, demanding tone that could sway even the most unwilling of Omegas to fall to his demand, a feature his Alpha nature provided, but with Richie spiraling like he was, Eddie really didn’t have a better option. “Baby. Will you listen to me? Please?” He asked, sighing in relief when Richie nodded up at him. “Thank you… Now _listen_. I’m gonna take care of you, baby, I promised you that and I meant it. Okay? Just let me take care of you and help. This isn’t your fault. If anything, I should have been a better Alpha to you… Not noticing and getting you somewhere safe sooner is on _me_ , Rich, okay? The school is getting you a heat room ready right now, and I’m gonna be with you the whole time, okay? But I gotta know now before you’re completely out of it—,”

“If you’re gonna ask if ya can mate me, the answer’s yes,” Richie cut him off, staring stubbornly at Eddie despite the feverish flush on his face, “It’s been’a yes since— Fuck, I dunno, since I like, climbed up the tree by your window and tried to see ya when ya were presenting and nearly slicked myself when you opened said window to tell me to fuck off.”

Eddie couldn’t help but snort in amusement, and Richie, despite the borderline delirious pain of his heat, grinned right back at him.

…

When they finally reached the safety of the school’s heat rooms— Single-room apartments stocked with food, protection, heat toys and such for a solid week, along with a large nesting space and scent-proof outer-walls— Richie was almost completely gone. Eddie had helped him gather what they would need for the week, and kept Richie from flying off the chain as they were driven to their little ‘heat-flat’. Richie had had enough sense left to gather every last scrap of his nest, and had kicked Eddie out of the main bedroom while making a safe space for himself to ride out his heat once they arrived. 

Only once Eddie heard the older teen whining for him did he go back to the bedroom door, gently turning the doorknob with a small _‘click’_ and giving an instinctual hum of praise when he saw the large, cozy looking nest of pillows, blankets and comforters strewn across the mattress and hung from the ceiling to create one big pillow-fort like area. Richie was curled up in the middle, his hair pulled up out of his face and only in his boxers as he waited for Eddie to take in the nest. “Is it good, Alpha?” He mumbled, the constant moving and interaction with others having finally worn his always frazzled nerves to the point of mental exhaustion.

“It’s perfect, Rich,” Eddie nodded, toeing off his shoes and shedding his shirt, “Is it okay for me to come in now, baby?” He added, a bit softer. He could see how anxious Richie was— He had been in heat all day and had been forced to walk around campus multiple times. The distress of being away from his safe space all day was just radiating off of him in waves, and it broke Eddie’s heart to see his normally bold, passionate boyfriend so wrung out and worn down.

Richie nodded at him, slowly shifting over to make space for the smaller teen and whining once Eddie was settled in next to him, arms immediately gravitating around him to cling to him as tight as he could. “I’ve got‘ya, Rich. It’s alright,” Eddie reassured, gladly letting Richie cling to him as tight as he could and holding him back just as close. “Just relax, bub. Try and rest ‘til the worst of it hits again, okay? I’ll be here to make it better the whole time,” He murmured, kissing at Richie’s cheeks in an attempt to distract him with affection until he was drowsy. Richie had gotten _no_ extra sleep that his preheat should have provided to help him through the worst of his heat, so unfortunately lulls like this were going to be the best they were going to get. Eddie was just hoping it would be a mild heat, for Richie’s sake. 

Unfortunately, nothing ever came easy. Not on Richie’s end, nor Eddie’s.

Eddie had awoken from his own light doze to the sound of weak, pained sobs in his ear, and a bony elbow driving into his ribs as Richie tried to quell the burning heat that had lit back up inside of him once more. “Shh,” Eddie whispered, already moving to sit up, “It’s alright, Omega. I’ve got you,” He murmured, voice rough and low from sleep and body moving mostly on autopilot as he basically manhandled Richie on top of him, grunting as Richie squirmed and writhed from the pain of being moved.

 _“Alpha!”_ Richie wailed out sharply, the pitch making Eddie’s head spin and his heart ache, “Hurts—! Fuckin’— Fuckin’ _need_ it, Alpha! Make it _stop!”_ As Richie yowled helplessly at him, Eddie was trying to get him to stop squirming enough to get his boxers off, finally just gripping his hips firmly and yanking them off with a bit more force than he had meant to use. He blinked owlishly when he heard the sound of fabric ripping, but he only had a few moments to think about it before his mind was jerked back to reality by the openly sobbing Omega still in his lap, slick now soaking through the fabric of his own boxers and making his dick start to harden in immediate interest.

“Richie,” Eddie said, as seeing Richie had felt the heat underneath him growing hard and started grinding on him helplessly, “Baby— Fuck, I need you to sit still long enough for me to get my boxers off of you’re gonna rub yourself raw,” He warned, as seeing Richie’s inner thighs already were looking a lovely cherry pink from rutting against the material of his boxers.

“Can’t help it— Alpha, fuck, need you in me— Need knot,” Richie fussed impatiently, whining again as Eddie gave an annoyed noise and forcably lifted him up off his lap just long enough to tug his underwear down, a loud groan of relief escaping him as his cock was finally freed into the cool air, the soft knot at the base already starting to chub up at the close proximity to an Omega in heat.

“Alright— Rich, when we do this, you can’t slam down all at once. Not the first time, anyways,” Eddie warned— They had fooled around many times before, but never all the way, as Eddie was terrified of knotting outside of Richie’s heat and possibly hurting him. Logically, his brain knew that that really couldn’t happen if he wasn’t near his rut and Richie wasn’t in heat, but the thought didn’t scare him any less.

“Okay,” Richie huffed impatiently, what little mental clarity he had now almost completely gone, replaced with a desperate state that was quickly being reduced to just begging for his Alpha, “Just need it _now_ , Alpha— Don’t wan’ it to hurt anymore!” He whined, easily lining himself up over Eddie’s lap and starting to sink down. He hissed immediately as the thick, bloated head pressed into him, slick dribbling down Eddie’s cock and onto his abdomen in thick rivulets as Richie’s body opened up for its Alpha gratefully. “Fuck— Alpha— Big— F-Fuckin’ _big,”_ Richie choked out once the head was completely in, legs shaking in his attempt to stay upright and balanced while Eddie was trying to soothe him.

“Fuck— Baby, you don’t have to go so fast,” Eddie hissed, as seeing Richie was trying to take it as fast as his body would open up without adjusting, “Heat or not, Rich, you gotta let yourself adjust—!” Eddie cut off with a sharp noise, as if the wind had been knocked out of him. In his worried fussing, Richie had decided to take him straight to the hilt, stomach bulging the tiniest bit as it struggled to adjust. Eddie gave a weak whine low in his throat, his own patience wavering as Richie’s body milked desperately around him as it struggled to catch up.

“Alpha,” Richie’s voice was nothing more than a needy gurgle in his throat, and when his eyes, which had fallen shut at some point after taking Eddie to the hilt in one go, finally slid back open, his pupils were dilated as wide as they could go, a lewd, feverish flush staining his freckled cheeks and mouth opened just enough for his tongue to peek out, begging for his boyfriend to come and kiss his breath away.

Eddie swallowed hard, clutching Richie’s hips tight enough to bruise as his patience and control slipped further and further from his grasp. “Fuck, Rich— Are you okay?” He croaked, his own voice almost foreign to his ears as he spoke. Richie was still just sitting there in his lap, breathing hard like he’d just run a marathon and clenching around him every few moments for dear life. “Rich?” Eddie tried again, only to blink in surprise when Richie pressed down desperately against him, grinding hard on his cock and kissing him with a fervor Eddie hadn’t realized Richie even _had._ Richie was panting and whining desperately as he rode him, and Eddie felt a bit like a toy for his Omega’s needs for a moment, whining into Richie’s mouth as Richie kissed him hard enough that he could barely get any movement in otherwise. Sure, Eddie may have been the Alpha, but Richie was still taller than him and was able to pin him down in their current position. “Fuck— Fuck, Rich— Baby, slow down—!” Eddie groaned, gasping out between kisses as Richie all but tried to milk the soul out of him with every movement.

“Can’t,” Richie huffed against his lips, moving his head down to start peppering needy kisses and bites all across his collarbone, “Need it, Alpha— Need _you_ ,” He whined, finally finding the perfect spot for where he wanted to put his mate mark on Eddie and starting to kiss and nip at the area, whining at the heady, sharp scent of his boyfriend that filled his senses. Sharp bergamot and clove, and the sweet underlying tone of shea and cinnamon left Richie’s head reeling, and he finally had to slow down as Eddie’s scent overwhelmed him and soothed some of the raw desperation that his body was begging him to put up. “Alpha,” He choked out, feeling Eddie finally gather him into his arms and sit up properly, “Need it so bad,” He sobbed, gangly form easily folding up against Eddie as the brunet held him close and rocked up into him, the pace much slower but far deeper and harder, “Need it to stop hurting, Alpha, please.”

“I know, Rich,” Eddie soothed, his own head dipping down to the crook of Richie’s neck, right over the swollen area of his scent glands. He kissed at the tender skin, cooing soothingly as Richie wailed out and arched forward, gasping and whining for more. “Shh— I told you, Rich… I’ve got you. No matter what, baby,” He reassured, groaning breathlessly as Richie pulled away from the rapidly-bruising crook of his neck to focus back on his lips again. Richie was a sloppy kisser, all tongue and teeth clicking together and spit dribbling down his bitten-raw lips, body rutting against his lover’s own as Eddie let him fall apart, knowing he was safe enough to do so with Eddie there to put him back together once his lull hit and he would be back in the real world for a few hours.

“Alpha,” Richie finally gasped, feeling Eddie’s warm palm wrap around his cock, circling the base and easily twisting to stroke up to his head before right back down again, “Fuck— Please— Please, Eds, l-lemme come— N-Need it,” He choked out, head digging back into Eddie’s shoulder and hips humping into Eddie’s warm, slick fist like his life depended on it, “Please, Alpha— Need you— Need you, Eddie, _please!”_ Eddie’s hips gave a sharp thrust up, and Richie jolted like a live wire, wailing out so hard his voice cracked as Eddie finally managed to hit his sweet spot despite the odd angle in which Richie was curled up over him. Richie wept aloud, cock twitching as he felt the thick, solid heat of his lover’s knot starting to drag against his rim with each thrust, struggling to pull back out more and more each time. Eddie was still pumping his cock like he was made for it, and finally the knot between them caught a little too hard, and he clamped down on it, head slumping into Eddie’s shoulder as his teeth sunk into the soft, supple skin of his mate’s neck.

His body jerked sharply and twitched as he came, and he gave a muffled moan of relief when he felt heat starting to flood into him, body shaking and another helpless cry escaping him when he felt a sharp, stinging pain burn into his own shoulder. It burned hellishly for a split second before raw relief flooded through his veins, and he sobbed openly, letting himself bonelessly slump against Eddie’s chest as the raw high of his orgasm temporarily faded the haze of his heat. “Alpha,” He croaked, panting hard and whimpering as Eddie soothingly cupped his head and stroked soothing circles over his back, “Fuck,” He finally laughed weakly, still struggling to catch his breath and deciding _Fuck it_ as his head dropped limply back on Eddie’s chest. He heard Eddie give a sharp hiss as sharp cheekbones dug into his ribs, and made a half-hearted noise of apology.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Rich,” Eddie finally laughed a good few minutes later, still a little out of breath himself, “Have you never had a knotting toy or anything before? I swear to god I don’t think you clenching around me like that should be legal,” The brunet grinned, combing his fingers through Richie’s hair. Richie made an unhappy whine at him, and Eddie graciously relented his teasing. “I’m just kidding, bub. You know I’ll gladly take care of you as much as you need me to,” He said, voice a bit softer now, “You did so good.”

The praise had Richie whining and sniffling, and he chose to dig his head deeper into Eddie’s chest rather than respond, which Eddie didn’t seem to appreciate. “Hey— Don’t go dropping on me now, Rich— C’mere.” Eddie stubbornly tilted Richie’s chin up, giving a fond smile when Richie pouted at him. He lightly stroked his thumb over the Omega’s swollen bottom lip, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to his forehead before shifting to properly lay them down, keeping Richie pressed close to his chest and instinctively curling up around his mate, making sure Richie was shielded away from the door and properly tucked within the safety of his nest. “Gonna keep you safe while you’re like this… Gonna protect you,” He mumbled, a low rumble of relief reverberating through his chest when Richie nodded at him.

“You’re jus’ lucky ‘m still ‘me’ enough to know what the words you’re saying actually mean,” Richie mumbled, voice muffled almost completely from where he was situated within Eddie’s arms.

“Mm… Yeah,” Eddie nodded, skimming his fingers over Richie’s scalp and continuing his subconscious purring just to keep his mate soothed, “But you know that I’m gonna make sure you understand, no matter how hard your heat hits, right?” Eddie felt his heart suddenly get a bit tight, his boldness having just slipped out before he could really process the words. Richie looked up at him, head tilted, and any fear Eddie could have had just vanished— No amount of heat or fever would ever be able to hide the raw look of utter trust and love in Richie’s eyes, and it soothed over Eddie’s own anxieties like a balm. He swallowed, and took a deep breath, pausing his petting of Richie’s hair to instead cup his cheek, thumb stroking over the prominent, freckle-dusted cheekbones with all the care his body could give. 

His pause just kept stretching on, and Richie finally licked his lips, swallowing down the lump in his throat to instead open his mouth to speak. “Eds—?”

“I love you.” And just like that, that crushing weight, the one that had been practically strangling him for the past week and a half, and that had been sitting just above his heart since they had first gotten together, was blissfully lifted off Eddie’s chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like I said please donate and sign petitions to support the Black Lives Matter movement! Stay safe!


	4. It’s Saturday Night!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who cares about college graduation when you could be stressing out over proposing?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so sorry for the delay yall my AC Has been out for two weeks and i’m stRugGLinG—

Mating halfway through their freshman year hadn’t initially been in Richie nor Eddie’s plans for their lives. It wasn’t a mistake, no. Not by any means.

It just… Happened a little faster than they had maybe expected it to.

After Richie’s heat had ended, the school had been forced to allow them to room together since they were now mated— Richie had snuck into Eddie’s room every night for a week before the school had caved in and just told them they would share a dorm together. It did, unfortunately, mean moving buildings, as seeing all the dorms in their current building were single-room, and definitely didn’t have enough space for two people to live together.

But in the end, they managed.

They only ended up staying in their dorm for a year anyways before getting a far-too-small studio apartment together on campus, a single bedroom with one bathroom and the kitchen not even big enough for both of them to be in the kitchen at the same time. The water leaked in the bathroom shower, the water usually didn’t get hot, and they had AC in the summer, but almost no heat come winter. Despite all its shortcomings, it was home. They had a big squashy couch, one that Eddie really didn’t want to know where Richie got it from, taking up most if not their entire living room, a struggling ficus plant in the windowsill that Eddie dutifully tried to nurse along, and a hell of a lot of willingness to keep going.

They had gotten that far, and they were out of Derry. They had each other. Eddie had seemed to realize he _hated_ nursing, and had started taking some engineering courses before discovering his love for cars, especially once their current car broke down and he had managed to fix the damn thing. He was happier than Richie had ever seen him during their childhood, and it made the taller man happy to know his tiny love was actually doing something that made _him_ happy.

Richie had settled himself on a social sciences degree, mostly public speaking roles and such along with a few courses in radio electronics just so he would be able to get into the swing of things at work. He had managed to score a minor position as the overnight host at their local college radio station, and he had become quite popular among the local crowds. His crass humor seemed to resonate well in New York City, and by their third year of college he had even scored a pretty solid position as a regular evening and overnight host on the weekends.

It wasn’t perfect. They chugged along and stuck it out. It was a day by day process— A lot of late night tears of exhaustion, short, snippy mornings with tired whines for just five more minutes of cuddles and a hell of a lot of black coffee being chugged in one go.

But they made it work.

…

“You really think ol’ Gore is gonna be there for the commencement speech?” Richie asked Eddie about halfway through their weekly trip to the grocery. Graduation was coming up in a week, and rumor had been floating around that the Vice President was going to be the one doing their commencement speech.

“Bullshit. They’ve just been spreading that so no one tries to have any huge parties right before graduation,” Eddie shook his head, grabbing a box of their usual cereal from the aisle and shaking his head when Richie tried to grab a box of Lucky Charms instead. “Hey! No. Last time we got those you just ate the marshmallows out and left the cereal in the box,” He added, refusing to back down when Richie whined and crossed his arms.

“Oh c’mon, Eds, we’re about to be adults in the _real_ world! With Bachelor's degrees and everything! They’ll never let us have Lucky Charms again once that happens!” Richie insisted, huffing when Eddie took the box from his hands and put it back on the shelf.

“Richie, we’ve been adults for almost five years. No one's gonna stop you from getting Lucky Charms,” Eddie insisted, rolling his eyes when Richie just grumbled under his breath that he didn’t know that. “C’mon. You know we gotta save up so we can have that nice dinner with your parents next week after graduation,” He added, a bit softer. He had been saving every unused penny of his money for the past five years for something big— He had only started hinting at it in the past few weeks now that he had the cover of graduation to sway Richie. It _was_ a gift for Richie he was saving up for, after all. Richie seemed blissfully unaware, still sulking about his Lucky Charms but reluctantly letting Eddie lead them to the next aisle to grab some milk and more coffee beans.

“Oh, hey! Trashmouth!” Eddie looked up from his rather intense scanning on the store’s minimal selection of coffee when he saw a group of students coming up to Richie, instinctively stiffening the tiniest bit as his mate was approached by people he didn’t know. Richie, on the other hand, perked up visibly, eyes brightening.

“Hey!” Richie gave a gigantic, dorky grin, waving them over and tugging an arm around Eddie’s shoulders. “Guys, this is Eds, you guys remember me talkin’ about him, right? Eds, these are the guys who run that little comedy club just down off Waverly, they were talkin’ with me the other day about maybe gettin’ a stand-up routine down there! They’ve got open mic nights!” He explained, Eddie slowly nodding along as the group of three just bobbed their head along excitedly.

“Yeah, Eddie, we’ve heard so much about you!” One of the girls chirped, tucking a lock of her short, fluffy brown curls behind her ear, “Richie met us at the radio station a week ago when we were advertising about our club! Who better than start our routine off with then our own resident radio comedian Trashmouth Tozier!”

Eddie blinked— He had vaguely heard Richie mention something along the lines of a new comedy club, but he had been so focused on his preparations with the dinner and his gift to Richie that he hadn’t remembered. “Oh, uh, yeah— That— Sounds cool. Do you guys have an opening date in mind?” He asked.

“Yeah! We have to get our last couple things set up, but we were thinking our grand opening was gonna be May 16th!” The second girl, much taller than the first and seemingly an Alpha, nodded, “That way everyone can enjoy graduation Friday night, then come out and celebrate on Saturday.” She explained. 

Eddie paused— Saturday was their night out with Richie’s parents, and when he’d hoped to set his big idea into motion. But Richie looked like he was about to burst at the seams with excitement, and all at once, Eddie quashed down the disappointment at having to put off five years of plans all at once. Sure, it was just some random day, not a date of major importance, but _still_. “Wait, Rich, what about your parents?” He asked.

“Oh, I called them the other day while you were at work! We had it set up so we’ll have dinner there! Win-win, right? A couple’a sets will go on before me while we have dinner, then I’m the main event,” Richie grinned— Eddie felt his heart pound. Richie had it all set up? Subconsciously, he felt his ears and neck get a little hot.

“Oh,” The smaller man nodded again, “Yeah— That’s great. Well, yeah. I mean— Yeah, yeah! Of course! That’s— That’s great! So we’ll see you next weekend?” Eddie said, plastering a smile on his cheeks at the group before them and feeling his face get hotter when the three people before them all nodded and babbled their agreements. After they had gone, he turned to Richie. “Uh, I don’t really remember you saying anything about any of this,” He said, swallowing down the lump in his throat when Richie went crimson.

“Well, uh… It was kinda supposed to be a secret,” Richie admitted, “More of a surprise, really. I know you’ve been all worked up over this big dinner and everything, I just kinda wanted to treat you and my parents to something nice, y’know? I think I’ve got a big break here, Eds, the girl with the fluffy brown hair knows Tina Fey— _Tina Fey!_ Can you imagine if I scored a spot on Saturday Night Live?! This could be huge!” Richie was still lit up like a Christmas tree, and even Eddie couldn’t hide the relief in his eyes at how happy Richie was.

“That’s great, baby,” Eddie said honestly, leaning up to hug his arms around Richie’s shoulders, “I’m glad you finally caught your big break. I’m sorry your surprise got ruined,” He added, lightly kissing the soft, pinkened skin of the scar on Richie’s neck where his mate mark was, “I’m happy for you.”

He wasn’t lying about that part— He was just lying when he didn’t add that his plans of proposal had just been crushed.

…

Commencement really wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. 

The Vice President _did_ end up being there, which Eddie pointedly refused to let Richie gloat about, and then they walked across the stage. Most of the rest just dromed on in a buzz through Eddie’s ears, and he kept stealing glances at Richie from across the row of seats, trying to calm himself down with glances of his mate whenever he could. They had a huge graduating class, and being in alphabetical order meant Eddie was pretty far away from his mate.

It sucked.

After many hours of internal debate, he had decided that he would keep the ring on him all weekend, hoping that maybe there would be a perfect time, even without all the pomp and circumstance that he had been hoping to add. Richie’s parents were in the crowd, that much he knew— What he didn't realize was that sneaking into the crowd were the rest of their favorite Losers, a few days early.

Richie _had_ managed to keep them a secret.

Which, once they were all officially congratulated as the latest graduating class from New York University, and were allowed to toss their caps in the air, Eddie was too busy rushing over to Richie to hug him close to notice five familiar figures just behind the approaching Maggie and Wentworth. “We did it, baby!” Eddie laughed breathlessly, hugging Richie tight and reaching up to kiss at his cheeks while Richie tried to twirl them around without knocking into anyone.

“Wow, you two actually made it across the stage in one piece,” A familiar deadpan voice called from behind them, making Eddie’s head perk up.

“Stan?!” Eddie turned, only to gape as he saw not only Stan, but _all_ of their Losers beginning beside Richie’s parents. “Oh my god— You fuckers!” Letting go of Richie, Eddie rushed over to the group, trying to squash them in a big group hug before he felt Richie join in too. “Did you assholes plan this?!” He grinned, laughing when Bev shook her head as if she was horrified at the thought.

“Us,” She drawled, “Surprise _you_ two dorks? Never in a million years. We just came to see the Toziers,” Bev grinned at Maggie and Went, who both chuckled good-naturedly and shook their head.

“Oh, come on now, Beverly,” Maggie hummed, “You know you can stop by any time to say hello, with or without these two,” She laughed, motioning to Eddie and Richie and laughing again when Richie gaped at her before pouting.

“Wh— Bevvy! Quit turning my own Ma against me!” Richie whined, only to huff as Bev flicked his nose and shook her head at him.

“You really think we would miss this? When you guys came all the way to Chicago to see me and Ben graduate?” Bev said, Bill and Mike both nodding in agreement.

“You guys both came to see me, Bill and Stan graduate all the way in California,” Mike agreed, clapping Richie on the shoulder and humming when Richie got a bit embarrassed. “We wouldn’t miss this for the world. You two have worked hard. Of course we were gonna come watch your big day.” He said, a small glint in his eye that Eddie couldn’t quite decipher.

“Are we done with the sappy part yet? I believe we have a small apartment we could be shoving ourselves into if we want to chit-chat,” Stan said, giving Richie a small smile when Richie gave a loud laugh.

“Are you kidding Stan my good man?! The sappy part hasn’t even started yet!”

…

Richie had planned the Losers being there, that much Eddie knew. They had come over, enjoyed snacks and some celebratory wine, courtesy of Went and Maggie, and talked for a good couple hours. Pictures were taken, smiles were had, and good laughs were all around. Of course, Eddie and Richie’s apartment was much too small for their guests to spend the night, so once everyone had gone back to their hotels for the night, it was just Eddie and Richie in their little home.

“I can’t believe we really did it,” Eddie murmured once they were laid down in bed, curled up in Richie’s nest and spooning his taller mate from behind, “I’m so proud of you, baby,” He added softly, stroking Richie’s back and layering soft kisses all across the nape of his neck, his shoulder blades and his anywhere else he could reach.

“You graduated too, Eds,” Richie pointed out, voice rather quiet from how tired he was.

“Yeah,” Eddie conceded, “But I’ve watched from the very beginning. You’ve worked _so_ hard to get to where we are right now, baby… All the way from getting in. You deserve all the praise in the world for getting to where you are right now. You put in the effort.” He said honestly, pausing when Richie moved to sit up.

“I feel like it’s almost never gonna really settle in that I actually did it,” Richie admitted, laying back down so this time they were facing each other, “Y’know? It just feels like… After how hard we’ve had it getting to where we are, between this and now the open mic tomorrow… Gods, Eds, I feel like I need to be pinched so someone wakes me up before I get in too deep.”

Eddie hugged Richie closer once he laid back down, kissing his forehead and reveling in how Richie burrowed up a little closer into his arms instinctively. “Baby, it’s not a dream. I promise you it's not… Tomorrow could be the big break we both know you’ve deserved your whole life. Who knows? There could be a talent scout there who takes one listen to all your jokes and realizes you deserve a spot on whatever late night comedy show is ready for someone as good as you.”

“You really think this trashmouth is _that_ good at jokes, Spaghetti?”

“Don’t make me answer that question while calling me ‘Spaghetti’, Richie,” Eddie groaned, which got an immediate, amused chuckle from his mate.

“You technically already just did.”

“Nope,” Eddie shook his head, chuckling at his lover and kissing his nose, “Nice try. You may have gotten me with that shit when we were kids, but I know better now. I just reply to you no matter what because I love you. But you call me Spaghetti in bed again and I’m not gonna let you be the little spoon.”

“Is it ‘cause you have to eat spaghetti with a fork _and_ a spoon?” Richie grinned.

“Go to sleep, Richie.”

…

Eddie was no stranger to small things weighing much more than they should, especially in the depths of his pocket. He’d had more than his fair share of days where he felt like his pills and inhaler had been weighing him down like lead in his pocket, trying to strangle him all throughout his childhood. But the small ring box in his pocket? _That_ had to have been the heaviest he’d ever held. It was just a tiny ring; a simple golden band. It was a weight he had put there himself, and yet still it felt like it was suffocating him all throughout dinner, choking his words and leaving him feeling painfully awkward around his friends and his mate’s family. He had tried to brush it off as just being nervous for Richie’s routine, as seeing Richie was basically vibrating in his seat with excited energy about it. _‘Listen, Richie is way too excited to be nervous. I’m just taking his nerves for him,’_ He’d insisted. No one seemed to question it, a small perk of always being the one to worry first and think it through properly a little later.

But god if Eddie didn’t want to throw up as soon as Richie left their table to head backstage.

As soon as Richie had gotten up, Eddie gripped his fork a little tighter, gritting his teeth and mentally ignoring his dentist’s warning to try not to grind his teeth so much. He was focused on burning a hole into the tablecloth, and didn’t realize Richie was calling form him until he felt his mate’s hand on his shoulder, immediately sending him right back down to Earth and grounding him like it always did.

“Huh?”

“I _said_ , ‘Do ya wanna come backstage with me?’ I wouldn’t mind a little Spaghetti pep talk before I go on,” Richie said, a warm smile on his face that Eddie couldn’t help but melt in relief with.

“Uh— Yeah. Yeah,” Eddie nodded clumsily, dropping his fork with a small _‘thunk’_ on the table and getting up to follow his mate. He was a little too wrapped up in his own thoughts to see the knowing looks of his fellow Losers and Richie’s parents, instead just taking Richie’s hand and clutching to it tight as Richie led them backstage.

“You feelin’ okay, Eds?” Richie asked once they were safely backstage, hidden from view as the opener started their spiel, “You’ve been pale all dinner. Are you okay?” Eddie paused, the words hitting him a little differently than he assumed Richie had meant. Here he was, worried sick over something Richie probably didn’t have on his mind in the slightest. All Richie saw was his mate, pale and quiet all dinner right before the biggest break and possibly the biggest opportunity he’d ever had. To Richie, it probably looked like Eddie didn’t _want_ him to have his big night, and for that, Eddie felt a sour ball of shame quickly burn in his gut and try to crawl up his throat.

“Eds?”

Eddie pushed himself forward to crush Richie in a desperate hug, leaning up on his toes to kiss Richie’s mate mark and even scenting the taller man a few times. “I’m so sorry,” He whispered honestly, “I didn’t mean to make you think I don’t care about your big break, Rich— Seriously. I was just— God I feel so fuckin’ stupid! I’ve been so worked up these past few days because I wanted tonight to go perfect for you— And god I nearly ruined it!” He rambled, feeling Richie’s long, noodly limbs wrap back around him and sighing. “I’m sorry, baby… You shouldn’t have had to deal with me all nervous when you’ve worked so hard for this for so long.”

“Eds, will you take a sec and breathe? For me?” Richie asked, and Eddie paused to do so, looking up at the older man and relaxing visibly when he saw Richie giving him that damned, far-too-fond, goofy grin.

“Yeah?”

“Babe, I know why you’ve been so nervous. I can feel the ring in your pocket right now.” Eddie promptly felt his stomach plummet through the floor, eyes going saucer-wide as panic crept over him like a thick blanket.

“Rich—,”

“No, seriously, it’s fine!” Richie cut him off with a reassuring grin, “It makes _me_ proposing that much easier, Spaghetti-Head!”

Eddie swore he was about to blow a gasket. “You’re a fucking idiot,” He finally breathed out, voice shaky and hoarse like he was still deciding if he should freak the fuck out, get angry, cry, or celebrate. “God— We’re so fucking stupid,” He laughed, hugging Richie tight again and kissing all across his mate mark.

“Aw, it’s alright Eds, you’re smart most of the time!” Richie laughed back, prompting an immediate scowl from Eddie. “Oops. I think I gave you too much credit,” He added, laughing again as Eddie’s scowl only deepened.

“The ring isn’t on your finger yet, Richie. I could still take it back,” Eddie warned, his eyebrows furrowing when Richie laughed again. “Quit that! Quit laughing at me when I’m trying to have a special moment with you!” He protested, though he was unable to keep a grin from dimpling his cheeks when Richie pulled his own ring box from out of his pocket.

“You wanna show me yours first, or should I show you mine?” Richie teased, waggling his eyebrows suggestively ag Eddie and snickering when Eddie gave him a firm look.

“God, I can’t believe I’m mated to an adult toddler,” Eddie groaned, pulling out his own tiny velvet box from his pocket and biting his lip. “Do you want me to do it the way I had planned? Or just put it on your finger?” He added, fully ready to get down on one knee and everything. Richie seemed a step ahead of him though, already starting to do just that and making Eddie blush. “Asshole. You stole my thunder!” The shorter man sputtered, more flustered than anything and quickly trying to correct himself into a proper standing position again.

“You can have a taste of mine when we get home if it’ll make ya feel better,” Richie offered helpfully, grinning once more when Eddie hissed at him that now was neither the time nor the place. “Alright, alright. No more jokes. I gotta save _some_ for the crowd,” The Omega conceded, raising his hands in mock surrender, “So… I’m sure the ring kinda proves it, as does you literally fightin’ with me over who gets to propose first, but y’know, gotta try and break the stereotype of the Alpha being the one to propose, right? So I guess what I’m sayin’ is, will you make me the happiest guy around and marry me, Eds?”

Eddie just broke into a grin, tugging Richie up to crush him in a hug. “You know the answer already, idiot. Put the ring on my finger so I can put the one I got for you on your finger already,” He laughed, still grinning brightly as Richie laughed right back.

“Only _I_ would manage to score a mate who literally bickers with me over who gets to _propose_ first,” Richie snorted, gladly taking Eddie’s hand and slipping the ring on it, his heart pounding a little at how Eddie beamed in pride and admired the simple silver band.

“Alright,” Eddie hummed, “Gimme your hand you noodle-limbed idiot, before you’re late for your set.”

…

Eddie should have known Richie would make a joke of the whole thing. To be fair, in hindsight, what greater way to knock the crown off their feet with laughter than with the story of two people fighting over who gets to propose first? Still, it had him flushing bright red as his fellow Losers poked fun at him for it before Richie went on. As soon as he entered, though, they all fell silent, and Eddie was left to watch his mate, heart in his throat and face still stained beet red.

Under the spotlight, Richie just seemed to flourish with practice ease, introducing himself to the crowd and warming them up a bit before his main act started. “So, I had a whole thing set up for you guys tonight, y’know, really wanted to show off some of my best stuff. I was a stupid kid, you were all in for a real treat. Unfortunately, I also had this big huge plan to propose to my lovely boyfriend today, too,” Richie had the crowd eating from his palm with his easy smile, dorky grin and self-deprecating but still lovable charm, and Eddie could only try to ignore the shame in his gut at how silly it all seemed in hindsight.

“So the thing is, he’s been all stressed out this past week. Now, the thing is, he’s _always_ stressed. Like, constantly looks like a sad pug mixed with a little angry chihuahua. So nothing new there, graduation was coming up too so I try and take it in stride. Still hopin’ I could swing my luck tonight and pop that big question, right?” The crowd laughed again, and Eddie burrowed his face in his hands, already knowing what was coming up next.

“But then, my lovable little Spaghetti head decided to go on and steal my thunder. Gave me a big hug right before I was about to go on, stressed out of his goddamned mind, and I could feel the ring in his pocket. I know it was a ring because it felt exactly like the one I had in _my_ back pocket! And then he has the gall to bicker with me about who gets to propose and get down on one knee first!” Another roar of laughter, and Eddie tried to slink down into his seat. He felt a hand on his back, and groaned when he saw Ben give him a sympathetic look.

“Don't even start with me, Ben, I already know every word about to come out of your mouth,” Eddie warned.

“Alright,” Ben raised his hand back up in surrender, “Just making sure you don’t blow a gasket. Richie said we were in charge of making sure you don’t implode while he’s on stage.”

“But I gotta say, for all the bickering we do, I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather have as my husband, y’know? He’s just the best. He’s the whole reason I even get to be out here for you guys tonight, he showed up even though he listens to me run all my ideas by him a million times. So before I leave you guys for the night, make sure you thank all these wonderful people who came together to make this whole show possible, and give a big round of applause for my lovely Spaghetti! Thank you!”

At the thunderous applause from the crowd, Richie did a little bow and left the stage, giving Eddie the chance to head backstage as well to meet him halfway. He barely even managed about a foot past the curtains before _he_ was the one being snatched up into a giant bear hug, long limbs easily tucking themselves around his waist like they belonged there.

“Woah—! Geez, Rich, don’t topple me over!” Eddie laughed, only to feel Richie’s head dig into his shoulder. “Rich?”

“Did I do good?” Richie asked, his head popping back up out of Eddie’s mate mark to stare at him, big blue eyes magnified under his coke-bottle glasses.

“Wh— Of course you did!” Eddie insistented, “Why would you think you didn’t? You had the crowd basically pissing themselves laughing the whole time!”

Richie was the one to blush at that, awkwardly shuffling in place and averting his eyes. “Well, I mean I didn’t see _you_ laughing,” He mumbled, and all at once Eddie felt like an idiot all over again.

“Rich, I’m still trying to work through my embarrassment at almost ruining your big night because I wanted to propose. Give me a week and I’ll be laughing at it with you. Right now I still feel like a moron,” Eddie said bluntly, shaking his head when Richie tried to protest. “I’ve already made up my mind. I pulled a stupid move,” He tried to insist, only to squawk in immediate protest when Richie pinched his cheek.

“Ah, so that’s what it was, ‘eh Eds?” Richie hummed, nodding wisely as if he had just unlocked the secrets of the universe, “Well, next time I’ll make sure I run my sets by ya before I go on stage, yeah? I love makin’ you laugh, it’s the best part of being out there. If I can't make my favorite spaghetti-head laugh, what’s the point?”

“Rich, you’re gonna be a successful comedian, you don’t need _me_ to be the judge of if you’re funny or not,” Eddie pointed out.

“Yeah, Eds, but that’s not the _point_ ,” Richie shook his head, “The _point_ is that I wanna make you laugh. It’s half of what makes being up there so easy. If you’re laughing, well then I’m doin’ somethin’ right, aren't I? You’re my number one, Eds. A crowd of fifty or a crowd of ten, if you aren’t laughin’, well then I fucked it up.”

Eddie groaned, shaking his head and grasping Richie’s cheeks to smoosh them together. “You’re ridiculous, Richie. What on Earth am I gonna do with you?” He sighed, only to yelp when Richie turned his head to try and lick his hand. “Gah! Richie, that’s disgusting! I haven’t washed my hands since dinner—!”

“Excuse me?” A polite voice chimed in from behind them, and all at once Eddie was quick to straighten himself up and press ever-so-slightly in front of Richie, wiping the spit off his hand and onto his pants instead. “Hello. Sorry to interrupt you both, I just wanted to introduce myself. My name is Andy, I’m one of the talent scouts for Saturday Night Live. I was hoping I would be able to speak with Mr. Tozier for a few minutes?”

“Ah, Mr. Tozier was my father, Andy. You can call me Richie!” Richie chimed, easily rolling right back into his goofy self if only to make a good impression. Andy seemed to agree, because he smiled and happily shook Richie’s hand.

“Richie, then. I watched your set tonight, and I have to say, I was very impressed with your performance. You know the stage well, and from the looks of it, have quite a few good stories to tell and people to make laugh. My boss would love to have you stop by her studio some time, I have to get going but if you wouldn’t mind stopping by the studio or just giving us a call, we’d love to have you.” With that, Andy handed Richie a small business card, and then, with a wave, he was weaving back through the crowd just as he came.

Eddie was left with Richie, the shorter of the two gaping in shock at the card Richie had been handed while Richie looked like Christmas had come early. “Holy fuck,” Richie whispered, “Saturday Night Live— He was _actually_ a scout for Saturday Night Live— Eds! Holy fuck!” He broke out in a borderline hysterical laugh, clutching his mate close and clinging to him like a lifeline.

“You did it baby,” Eddie whispered, more than happy to hug Richie back as tight as he could hope to ask for, “You did it. I knew you would. You knocked ‘em dead,” He said proudly, kissing Richie’s cheek and leaning up a bit so he could bump their foreheads together.

“I’m so proud of you, baby,” Eddie said honestly, “You did so good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pls comment or kudos if you enjoy! i’m doing my best with this story i really love it i just haven’t written in forever ahshdhdh

**Author's Note:**

> im,,, soft, okay?? i love reddie being established and in love with each other especially since i hate the angst of pining otherwise, like im too empathetic for it i need to know they’re in love and communicating!!!


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